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/ 



THE MAN IN THE CORNER 



/ 



I > 



t!3im 



"The man IN THE corner" 



■^ 



The 


Man 


In the 


Corner 


B, BARONESS „ORCZY 


Ankat <r ■• Tte EIndn n»|n>d," Etc. 


iLLVrTRATED BY 


H. M. 


BROCK 


A. L. BURT COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


:: NEW YORK 



OOPTKIGHT, I9n« 

By C ARTHUR PEARSON, Lm, 



COPTRIORT, 1909, 

bt dodd, mead Sc compant 






06s 












CONTENTS 

I. The Fbnchurch Street Mystery . i 

II. A Millionaire in the Dock ... ii 

III. His Deduction 26 

IV. The Robbery in Philumore Terrace 31 
V. A Night's Adventure 40 

VI. All He Knew 5a 

VII. The York Mystery 57 

VIII. The Capital Charge 65 

IX. A Broken-Hearted Woman ... 81 
X. The Mysterious Death on the Un- 
derground Railway 86 

XI. Mr. Errington 103 

XII. The Liverpool Mystery . . • . 116 

XIII. A Cunning Rascal 129 

XIV. The Edinburgh Mystery . . . . 138 
XV. A Terrible Pught 145 

XVI. " NoN Proven " ....... 153 

XVIL Undeniable Facts 160 

XVIII. The Theft at the English Provi- 
dent Bank 165 

XIX. Conflicting Evidence 176 

XX An Alibi 182 

XXI. The Dublin Mystery 191 

XXII. Forgery 196 

XXIII. A Memorable Day 207 

XXIV. An Unparalleled Outrage . . . 216 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTia PAoa 

XXV. The Prisoner ....•!» »<. • 221 

XXVI. A Sensation ..i r., • 236 

XXVII. Two Blackguards . . . •, ,• . 240 

XXVIII. The Regent's Park Murdoi • • • 245 

XXIX. The Motive 256 

XXX. Friends 264 

XXXI. The De Genneville Peerage . . 270 

XXXII. A High-Bred Gentleman .... 277 

XXXII I. The Living and the Dead .... 286 
XXXIV. The Mysterious Death ik Fsrcy 

Street 296 

XXXV. Suicide or Murder? 302 

XXXVI. The End .321 



CHAPTER I 

THE FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY 

The man in the corner pushed aside his glass, and 
leant across the table. 

"Mysteries!" he commented. "There is no 
such thing as a mystery in connection with any. 
crime, provided intelligence is brought to bear 
upon its investigation.** 

Very much astonished Polly Burton looked 
over the top of her newspaper, and fixed a pair of 
very severe, coldly inquiring brown eyes upon 
him. 

She had disapproved of the man from the in- 
stant when he shuffled across the shop and sat 
down opposite to her, at the same marble-topped 
table which already held her large coffee (3d.)> 
her roll and butter (2d.), and plate of tongue 
(6d.). 

Now this particular corner, this very same 
table, that special view of the magnificent marble 
hall — ^known as the Norfolk Street branch of the 
Aerated Bread Company^s depots — ^were Polly's 
own corner, table, and view. Here she had par- 
taken of eleven pennyworth of luncheon and one 
pennyworth of daily information ever since that 
glorious never-to-be-forgotten day when she was 
enrolled on the staff of the Evening Observer. 



2 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

(we'll call It that, if you please), and became a 
member of that illustrious and world-famed or- 
ganisation known as the British Press. 

She was a personality, was Miss Burton of the 
Evening Observer. Her cards were printed thus : 



MISS MARY J. BURTON 



Evening Observer, 



She had Interviewed Miss Ellen Terry and the 
Bishop of Madagascar, Mr. Seymour Hicks and 
the Chief Commissioner of Police. She had been 
present at the last Marlborough House garden 
party — in the cloak-room, that is to say, where 
she caught sight of Lady Thingummy's hat, Miss 
What-you-may-call's sunshade, and of various 
other things modistical or fashionable, all of 
which were duly described under the heading 
** Royalty and Dress '* in the early afternoon edi- 
tion of the Evening Observer. 

(The article itself is signed M. J. B., and is to 
be found in the files of that leading halfpenny- 
worth.) 

For these reasons — and for various others, too 
— Polly felt irate with the man in the corner, 
and told him so with her eyes, as plainly as any 
pair of brown eyes can speak. 

She had been reading an article in the Daily 



FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY 3 

Telegraph. The article was palpitatingly Inter- 
esting. Had Polly been commenting audibly upon 
it? Certain it is that the man over there had 
^oken In direct answer to her thoughts. 

She looked at him and frowned; the next mo- 
ment she smiled. Miss Burton (of the Evening 
Observer) had a keen sense of humour, which two 
years' association with the British Press had not 
succeeded in destroying, and the appearance of 
the man was sufficient to tickle the most ultra- 
morose fancy. Polly thought to herself that she 
had never seen anyone so pale, so thin, with such 
funny light-coloured hair, brushed very smoothly 
across the top of a very obviously bald crown. 
He looked so timid and nervous as he fidgeted 
Incessandy with a piece of string; his long, lean, 
and trembling fingers tying and untying it Into 
knots of wonderful and complicated proportions. 

Having carefully studied every detail of the 
quaint personality Polly felt more amiable. 

"And yet," she remarked kindly but authori- 
tatively, "this article, in an otherwise well-in- 
formed journal, will tell you that, even within 
the last year, no fewer than six crimes have com- 
pletely baffled the police, and the perpetrators of 
them are still at large.'* 

" Pardon me," he said gently, " I never for a 
moment ventured to suggest that there were no 
mysteries to the police; I merely remarked that 
there were none where intelligence was brought to 
bear upon the Investigation of crime." 



4 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Not even in the Fenchurch Street mystery, I 
suppose/' she asked sarcastically. 

" Least of all in the so-called Fenchurch Street 
mystery,^' he replied quietly. 

Now the Fenchurch Street mystery, as that 
extraordinary crime had popularly been called, 
had puzzled — as Polly well knew — ^the brains of 
every thinking man and woman for the last 
twelve months. It had puzzled her not incon- 
siderably; she had been interested, fascinated; 
she had studied the case, formed her own theories, 
thought about it all often and often, had even 
written one or two letters to the Press on the 
subject — suggesting, arguing, hinting at possibili- 
ties and probabilities, adducing proofs which other 
amateur detectives were equally ready to refute. 
The attitude of that timid man in the comer, 
therefore, was peculiarly exasperating, and she 
retorted with sarcasm destined to completely 
annihilate her self-complacent interlocutor. 

"What a pity it is, in that case, that you do 
not offer your priceless services to our misguided 
though well-meaning police." 

"Isn't it?" he replied with perfect good- 
humour. "Well, you know, for one thing I 
doubt if they would accept them; and in the 
second place my inclinations and my duty would 
— ^were I to become an active member of the 
detective force — ^nearly always be in direct con- 
flict. As often as not my sympathies go to the 



FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY 5 

criminal who is clever and astute enough to lead 
our entire police force by the nose. 

"I don't know how much of the case you re- 
member," he went on quietly. " It certainly, at 
first, began even to puzzle me. On the 12th of 
last December a woman, poorly dressed, but with 
an unmistakable air of having seen better days, 
gave information at Scotland Yard of the disap- 
pearance of her husband, William Kershaw, of 
no occupation, and apparently of no fixed abode. 
She was accompanied by a friend — a fat, oily- 
looking German — and between them they told a 
tale which set the police immediately on the move. 
** It appears that on the loth of December, at 
about three o'clock in the afternoon, Karl MuUer, 
the German, called on his friend, William Ker- 
shaw, for the purpose of collecting a small debt — 
some ten pounds or so— which the latter owed 
him. On arriving at the squalid lodging in 
Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, he found Wil- 
liam Kershaw in a wild state of excitement, and 
his wife in tears. Miiller attempted to state the 
object of his visit, but Kershaw, with wild ges- 
tures, waived him aside, and — ^in his own words — 
flabbergasted him by asking him point-blank for 
another loan of two pounds, which sum, he de- 
clared, would be the means of a speedy fortune 
for himself and the friend who would help him in 
his need. 

*^ After a quarter of an hour spent in obscure 



6 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

hints, Kershaw, finding the cautious German 
obdurate, decided to let him into the secret plan, 
which, he averred, would place thousands into 
their hands." 

Instinctively Polly had put down her paper; 
the mild stranger, with his nervous air and timid, 
watery eyes, had a peculiar way of telling his tale, 
which somehow fascinated her. 

" I don't know," he resumed, " if you remem- 
ber the story which the German told to the police, 
and which was corroborated in every detail by the 
wife or widow. Briefly it was this : Some thirty 
years previously, Kershaw, then twenty years of 
age, and a medical student at one of the London 
hospitals, had a chum named Barker, with whom 
he roomed, together with another. 

"The latter, so it appears, brought home one 
evening a very considerable sum of money, which 
he had won on the turf, and the following morn- 
ing he was found murdered in his bed. Kershaw, 
fortunately for himself, was able to prove a con- 
clusive alibi; he had spent the night on duty at 
the hospital; as for Barker, he had disappeared, 
that is to say, as far as the police were concerned, 
but not as far as the watchful eyes of his friend 
Kershaw were able to spy — at least, so the latter 
said. Barker very cleverly contrived to get away 
out of the country, and, after sundry vicissitudes, 
finally settled down at Vladivostock, in Eastern 



FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY 7 

Siberia, where, under the assumed name of Smet- 
hurst, he built up an enormous fortune by trading 
In furs. 

" Now, mind you, every one knows Smethurst, 
die Siberian millionaire. Kershaw's story that he 
had once been called Barker, and had committed 
a murder thirty years ago was never proved, was 
it? I am merely telling you what Kershaw said 
to his friend the German and to his wife on that 
memorable afternoon of December the loth. 

"According to him Smethurst had made one 
gigantic mistake in his clever career — ^he had on 
four occasions written to his late friend, William 
Kershaw. Two of these letters had no bearing 
on the case, since they were written more than 
twenty-five years ago, and Kershaw, moreover, 
had lost them — so he said — ^long ago. Accord- 
ing to him, however, the first of these letters was 
written when Smethurst, alias Barker, had spent 
all the money he had obtained from the crime, 
and found himself destitute in New York. 

" Kershaw, then in fairly prosperous circum- 
stances, sent him a £10 note for the sake of old 
times. The second, when the tables had turned, 
and Kershaw had begun to go downhill, Smet- 
hurst, as he then already called himself, sent his 
whilom friend £50. After that, as MuUer gath- 
ered, Kershaw had made sundry demands on 
Smethurst's ever-increasing purse, and had ac- 



8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

companied these demands by various threats, 
which, considering the distant country in which 
the millionaire lived, were worse than futile. 

'* But now the climax had come, and Kershaw, 
after a final moment of hesitation, handed over to 
his German friend the two last letters purporting 
to have been written by Smethurst, and which, if 
yoa remember, played such an important part in 
the mysterious story of this extraordinary crime. 
I have a copy of both these letters here," added 
the man in the comer, as he took out a piece of 
paper from a very worn-out pocket-book, and, un- 
folding it very deliberately, he began to read: — 

'' ' SiK, — ^Your preposterous demands for money are wholly 
uBwarrantable. I have already helped you quite as much as 
yoa deserre. However, for the sake of old times, and because 
you onoe helped me when I was in a terrible difficulty, I am 
williag to once more let you impose upon my good nature. A 
friefid of mine here, a Russian merchant, to whom I have 
sold my business, starts in a few days for an extended tour to 
many European and Asiatic ports in his yacht, and has in- 
vited me to accompany him as far as England. Being tired of 
foreign parts, and desirous of seeing the old country once again 
after thirty years* absence, I have decided to accept his in- 
vitation. I don't know when we may actually be in Europe, 
but I promise you that as soon as we touch a suitable port I 
will write to you again, making an appointment for you to see 
me in London. But remember that if your demands are too 
preposterous I will not for a moment listen to them, and that 
I am the last man in the world to submit to persistent and un* 
warrantable blackmail. 

"'I am, sir. 

"'Yours truly, 

"'Francis Smbihuist.' 



FENCHURCH STREET MYSTERY 9 

"The second letter was dated from South- 
ampton," continued the man in the corner 
calmly, " and, curiously enough, was the only let- 
ter which Kershaw professed to have received 
[from Smethurst of which he had kept the en- 
jvelope, and which was dated. It was quite 
brief," he added, referring once more to his piece 
of paper. 

"*Dear Sir, — ^Referring to my letter of a few weeks ago, 1 
wish to inform you that the Tsarskoe Selo will touch at Til- 
bury on Tuesday next, the zoth. I shall land there, and im- 
mediately go up to London by the first train I can get. If you 
like, you may meet me at Fenchurch Street Station, in the first- 
class waiting-room, in the late afternoon. Since I surmise that 
after thirty years' absence my face may not be familiar to 
3rou, I may as well tell you that you will recognize me by a 
heavy Astrakhan fur coat, which I shall wear, together with 
a cap of the same. You may then introduce yourself to me^ 
and I will personally listen to what you may hare to say. 

"* Yours faithfully, 

"^Francis Smbtrubsi.' 

** It was this last letter which had caused 
William Kershaw's excitement and his wife's 
tears. In the German's own words, he was walk- 
ing up and down the room like a wild beast, gestic- 



iulating wildly, and muttering sundry exclama- 
tions. Mrs. Kershaw, however, was full of ap- 
prehension. She mistrusted the man from for- 
eign parts — ^who, according to her husband's 
story, had already one crime upon his conscience 
— ^who might, she feared, risk another, in order 



F 

I 



lo THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

to be rid of a dangerous enemy. Woman-like, 
she thought the scheme a dishonourable one, for 
the law, she knew, is severe on the blackmailer. 

" The assignation might be a cunning trap, in 
any case it was a curious one; why, she argued, 
did not Smethurst elect to see Kershaw at his 
hotel the following day? A thousand whys and 
wherefores made her anxious, but the fat German 
had been won over by Kershaw*s visions of untold 
gold, held tantalisingly before his eyes. He ha4 
lent the necessary £2, with which his friend in- 
tended to tidy himself up a bit before he went to 
meet his friend the millionaire. Half an hour 
afterwards Kershaw had left his lodgings, and 
that was the last the unfortunate woman saw of 
her husband, or Miiller, the German, of his 
friend. 

"Anxiously his wife waited that night, but he 
did not return; the next day she seems to have 
spent in making purposeless and futile inquiries 
about the neighbourhood of Fenchurch Street ; and 
on the 1 2th she went to Scotland Yard, gave what 
particulars she knew, and placed in the hands of 
the police the two letters written by Smethurst." 



CHAPTER II 

A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 

The man in the corner had finished his glass 
of milk. His watery blue eyes looked across at 
Miss Polly Burton's eager little face, from which 
all traces of severity had now been chased away 
by an obvious and intense excitement. 

**It was only on the 31st," he resumed after 
a while, "that a body, decomposed past all 
recognition, was found by two lightermen in the 
bottom of a disused barge. She had been moored 
at one time at the foot of one of those dark 
flights of steps which lead down between tall 
warehouses to the river in the East End of Lon- 
don. I have a photograph of the place here,'* he 
added, selecting one out of his pocket, and plac- 
ing it before Polly. 

" The actual barge, you see, had already been 
removed when I took this snapshot, but you will 
realise what a perfect place this alley is for the 
purpose of one man cutting another's throat in 
comfort, and without fear of detection. The 
body, as I said, was decomposed beyond all 
recognition; it had probably been there eleven 
days, but sundry articles, such as a silver ring and 

II 



12 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

a tie pin, were recognisable, and were identified 
by Mrs. Kershaw as belonging to her husband. 

** She, of course, was loud in denouncing Smet- 
hurst, and the police had no doubt a very strong 
case against him, for two days after the discovery 
of the body in the barge, the Siberian millionaire, 
as he was already popularly called by enterprising 
interviewers, was arrested in his luxurious suite of 
rooms at the Hotel Cecil. 

"To confess the truth, at this point I was not 
a little puzzled. Mrs. Kershaw's story and 
Smethurst's letters had both found their way into 
the p^ers, and following my usual method — 
mind yoii,, I am only an amateur, I try to reason 
out a case for the love of the thing — I sought 
about for a motive for the crime, which the police 
declared Smethurst had committed. To effectu- 
ally get rid of a dangerous blackmailer was 
the generally accepted theory. Well! did it 
ever strike you how paltry that motive really 
was?" 

Miss Polly had to confess, however, that it had 
never struck her in that light. 

" Surely a man who had succeeded in building 
tip an immense fortune by his own individual 
efforts, was not the sort of fool to believe that 
he had anything to fear from a man like Ker- 
shaw. He must have known that Kershaw held 
no damning proofs against him — not enough to 
hang him, anyway. Have you ever seen Smet- 






A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 13 

hurst?" he added, as he once more fumbled In his 
pocket-book. 

Polly replied that she had seen Smethurst's pic- 
ture in the illustrated papers at the time. Then 
he added, placing a small photograph before her : 

"What strikes you most about the face?" 

"Well, I think its strange, astonished expres- 
sion, due to the total absence of eyebrows, and 
the funny foreign cut of the hair." 

" So close that it almost looks as if It had been 
shaved. Exactly. That is what struck me most 
when I elbowed my way into the court that morn- 
ing and first caught sight of the millionaire in 
the dock. He was a tall, soldierly-lodldng man, 
upright In stature, his face very bronzed and 
tanned. He wore neither moustache nor beard, 
his hair was cropped quite close to his head, like 
a Frenchman's; but, of course, what was so very 
remarkable about him was that total absence of 
eyebrows and even eyelashes, which gave the face 
such a peculiar appearance — ^as you say, a per- 
petually astonished look. 

"He seemed, however, wonderfully calm; he 
had been accommodated with a chair in the dock 
— ^being a millionaire — and chatted pleasandy 
with his lawyer, Sir Arthur Inglewood, in the in- 
tervals between the calling of the several witnesses 
for the prosecution ; whilst during the examination 
of these witnesses he sat quite placidly, with his 
head shaded by his hand. 



14 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Miiller arid Mrs. Kershaw repeated the story 
which they had already told to the police. I think 
you said that you were not able, owing to pres- 
sure of work, to go to the court that day, and 
hear the case, so perhaps you have no recollec- 
tion of Mrs. Kershaw. No? Ah, well! Here 
Is a snapshot I managed to get of her once. That 
is her. Exactly as she stood in the box— over- 
dressed — in elaborate crape, with a bonnet which 
once had contained pink roses, and to which a 
remnant of pink petals still clung obtrusively 
amidst the deep black. 

'^She would not look at the prisoner, and 
turned her head resolutely towards the magis- 
trate. I fancy she had been fond of that vaga- 
bond husband of hers: an enormous wedding- 
ring encircled her finger, and that, too, was 
swathed in black. She firmly believed that Ker- 
shaw's murderer sat there in the dock, and she 
literally flaunted her grief before him. 

"I was indescribably sorry for her. As for 
Miiller, he was just fat, oily, pompous, conscious 
of his own importance as a witness; his fat fingers, 
covered with brass rings, gripped the two incrim- 
inating letters, which he had identified. They 
were his passports, as it were, to a delightful land 
of importance and notoriety. Sir Arthur Ingle- 
wood, I think, disappointed him by stating that 
he had no questions to ask of him. Miiller had 
been brimful of answers, ready with the most per- 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 15 

feet indictment, the most elaborate accusations 
against the bloated millionaire who had destroyed 
his dear friend Kershaw, and murdered him in 
Heaven knows what an out-of-the-way corner of 
the East End. 

"After this, however, the excitement grew 
apace. Miiller had been dismissed, and had re- 
tired from the court altogether, leading away 
Mrs. Kershaw, who had completely broken down. 

** Constable D 21 was giving evidence as to the 
arrest in the meanwhile. The prisoner, he said, 
had seemed completely taken by surprise, not un- 
derstanding the cause or history of the accusation 
against him ; however, when put in full possession 
of the facts, and realising, no doubt, the absolute 
futility of any resistance, he had quietly enough 
followed the constable into the cab* No one at 
the fashionable and crowded Hotel Cecil had even 
suspected that anything unusual had occurred. 

"Then a gigantic sigh of expectancy came 
from every one of the spectators. The * fun ' was 
about to begin. James Buckland, a porter at 
Fenchurch Street railway station, had just sworn 
to tell all the truth, etc. After all, it did not 
amount to much. He said that at six o'clock in 
the afternoon of December the loth, in the midst 
of one of the densest fogs he ever remembers, the 
5.5 from Tilbury steamed into the station, being 
just about an hour late. He was on the arrival 
platform, and was hailed by a passenger in a first- 



1 6 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

class carriage. He could see very little of him be- 
yond an enormous black fur coat and a travelling 
cap of fur also. 

" The passenger had a quantity of luggage, all 
marked F. S., and he directed James Buckland to 
place It all upon a four-wheeled cab, with the ex- 
ception of a small hand-bag, which he carried 
himself. Having seen that all his luggage was 
safely bestowed, the stranger in the fur coat paid 
the porter, and, telling the cabman to wait until 
he returned, he walked away in the direction of 
the waiting-rooms, still carrying his small hand- 
bag. 

** * I stayed for a bit,* added James Buckland, 
* talking to the driver about the fog and that; 
then I went about my business, seein* that the 
local from Southend 'ad been signalled.' 

"The prosecution insisted most strongly upon 
the hour when the stranger in the fur coat, hav- 
ing seen to his luggage, walked away towards the 
waiting-rooms. The porter was emphatic. *It 
was not a minute later than 6.15,' he averred. 

" Sir Arthur Inglewood still had no questions 
to ask, and the driver of the cab was called. 

" He corroborated the evidence of James Buck- 
land a^ to the hour when the gentleman in the fur 
coat had engaged him, and having filled his cab 
in and out with luggage, had told him to wait. 
And cabby did wait. He waited in the dense fog 
— ^until he was dred, until he seriously thought of 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 17 

depositing all the luggage in the lost property 
office, and of looking out for another fare — 
waited until at last, at a quarter before nine, 
whom should he see walking hurriedly towards his 
cab but the gentleman in the fur coat and cap, 
who got in quickly and told the driver to take 
him at once to the Hotel Cecil. This, cabby de- 
clared, had occurred at a quarter before nine. 
Still Sir Arthur Inglewood made no comment, and 
Mr. Francis Smethurst, in the crowded, stuffy 
court, had calmly dropped to sleep. 

" The next witness, Constable Thomas Taylor, 
had noticed a shabbily-dressed individual, with 
shaggy hair and beard, loafing about the station 
and waiting-rooms in the afternoon of December 
the loth. He seemed to be watching the arrival 
platform of the Tilbury and Southend trains. 

"Two separate and independent witnesses, 
cleverly unearthed by the police, had seen this 
same shabbily-dressed individual stroll into the 
first-class waiting-room at about 6.15 on Tues- 
day, December the loth, and go straight up 
to a gentleman in a heavy fur coat and cap, who 
had also just come into the room. The two 
talked together for a while; no one heard what 
they said, but presently they walked off together. 
No one seemed to know in which direction. 

" Francis Smethurst was rousing himself from 
his apathy; he whispered to his lawyer, who 
nodded with a bland smile of encouragement. 



i8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

The employes of the Hotel Cecil gave evidence 
as to the arrival of Mr. Smethurst at about 9 :30 
p. m. on Tuesday, December the loth, in a 
cab, with a quantity of luggage; and this closed 
the case for the prosecution. 

"Everybody in that court already ssw Smet- 
hurst mounting the gallows. It was uninterested 
curiosity which caused the elegant audience to 
wait and hear what Sir Arthur Inglewood had to 
say. He, of course, is the most fashionable man 
in the law at the present moment. His lolling 
attitudes, his drawling speech, are quite the rage, 
and imitated by the gilded youth of society. 

" Even at this moment, when the Siberian mil- 
lionaire's neck literally and metaphorically hung 
in the balance, an expectant titter went round the 
fair spectators as Sir Arthur stretched out his long 
loose limbs and lounged across the table. He 
waited to make his effect — Sir Arthur is a bom 
actor — and there is no doubt that he made it, 
when in his slowest, most drawly tones he said 
quietly : 

" * With regard to this alleged murder of one 
William Kershaw, on Wednesday, December the 
loth, between 6.15 and 8.45 p. m., your Honour, 
I now propose to call two witnesses, who saw this 
same William Kershaw alive on Tuesday after- 
noon, December the i6th, that is to say, six days 
after the supposed murder.' 

** It was as if a bombshell had exploded in the 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 19 

court. Even his Honour was aghast, and I am 
sure the lady next to me only recovered from the 
shock of surprise In order to wonder whether she 
need put of! her dinner party after all. 

"As for me," added the man in the corner, 
with that strange mixture of nervousness and self- 
complacency which had set Miss Polly Burton 
wondering, "well, you see, / had made up my 
mind long ago where the hitch lay in this par- 
ticular case, and I was not so surprised as some 
of the others. 

" Perhaps you remember the wonderful de- 
velopment of the case, which so completely 
mystified the police — and in fact everybody ex- 
cept myself. Torriani and a waiter at his hotel 
in the Commercial Road both deposed that at 
about 3.30 p. m. on December the loth a shab- 
bily-dressed individual lolled into the coffee-room 
and ordered some tea. He was pleasant enough 
and talkative, told the waiter that his name was 
William Kershaw, that very soon all London 
would be talking about him, as he was about, 
through an unexpected stroke of good fortune, to 
become a very rich man, and so on, and so on, 
nonsense without end. 

"When he had finished his tea he lolled out 
again, but no sooner had he disappeared down 
a turning of the road than the waiter discovered 
an old umbrella, left behind accidentally by the 
shabby, talkative individual. As is the custom in 



20 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

his highly respectable restaurant, Signer Torriani 
put the umbrella carefully away in his office, on 
the chance of his customer calling to claim it when 
he discovered his loss. And sure enough nearly a 
week later, on Tuesday, the 1 6th, at about i p. m., 
the same shabbily-dressed individual called and 
asked for his umbrella. He had some lunch, 
and chatted once again to the waiter. Signor 
Torriani and the waiter gave a description of 
William Kershaw, which coincided exactly with 
that given by Mrs. Kershaw of her husband. 

" Oddly enough he seemed to be a very absent- 
minded sort of person, for on this second occa- 
sion, no sooner had he left than the waiter found 
a pocket-book in the coffee-room, underneath the 
table. It contained sundry letters and bills, all 
addressed to William Kershaw. This pocket- 
book was produced, and Karl Miiller, /who had 
returned to the court, easily identified it as hav- 
ing belonged to his dear and lamented friend 
* Villiam.' 

"This was the first blow to the case against 
the accused. It was a pretty stiff one, you will 
admit. Already it had begun to collapse like a 
house of cards. Still, there was' the assignation, ' 
and the undisputed meeting between Smethurst 
and Kershaw, and those two and a half hours of a 
foggy evening to satisfactorily account for.'* 

The man in the corner made a long pause, 
keeping the girl on tenterhooks. He had fidgeted 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 21 

with his bit of string till there was not an inch 
of it free from the most complicated and elabor- 
ate knots. 

" I assure you/* he resumed at last, " that at 
that very moment the whole mystery was, to me, 
as clear as daylight. I only marvelled how his 
Honour could waste his time and mine by putting 
what he thought were searching questions to the 
accused relating to his past. Francis Smethurst, 
who had quite shaken off his somnolence, spoke 
with a curious nasal twang, and with an almost 
imperceptible soup^on of foreign accent. He 
calmly denied Kershaw's version of his past; 
declared that he had never been called Barker, 
and had certainly never been mixed up in any 
murder case thirty years ago. 

" * But you knew this man Kershaw,' persisted 
his Honour, * since you wrote to him ? ' 

" * Pardon me, your Honour,' said the accused 
quietly, * I have never, to my knowledge, seen 
this man Kershaw, and I can swear that I never 
wrote to him.* 

" * Never wrote to him ? ' retorted his Honour 
warningly. * That is a strange assertion to make 
when I have two of your letters to him in my 
hands at the present moment.' 

" * I never wrote those letters, your Honour,' 
persisted the accused quietly, * they are not in my 
handwriting. 

"* Which we can easily prove,' came in Sir 



22 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Arthur Inglewood's drawly tones, as he handed up 
a packet to his Honour, *here are a number of 
letters written by my client nnce he has landed in 
this country, and some of which were written un- 
der my very eyes/ 

^' As Sir Arthur Inglewood had said, this could 
be easily proved, and the prisoner, at his Honour's 
request, scribbled a few lines, together with his 
signature, several times upon a sheet of note-paper. 
It was easy to read upon the magistrate's as- 
tounded countenance, that there was not the slight- 
est similarity in the two handwritings. 

" A fresh mystery had cropped up. Who, then, 
had made the assignation with William Kershaw 
at Fcnchurch Street railway station? The pris- 
oner gave a fairly satisfactory account of the em- 
ployment of his time since his landing in England. 

** * I came over on the Tsarkoe Selo/ he said, 
* a yacht belonging to a friend of mine. - When 
we arrived at the mouth of the Thames there 
was such a dense fog that it was twenty-four 
hours before it was thought safe for me to land. 
My friend, who is a Russian, would not land at 
«I1; he was regularly frightened at this land of 
fogs. He was going on to Madeira immediately. 

^^ ^ I actually landed on Tuesday, the loth, and 
took a train at once for town. I did see to my 
luggage and a cab, as the porter and driver told 
\t>ur Honour; then I tried to find my way to a 
refre^hment-room, where I could get a glass of 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 23 

wine. I drifted into the waiting-room, and there 
I was accosted by a shabbily-dressed individual, 
who began telling me a piteous tale. Who he was 
I do not know. He said he was an old soldier 
who had served his country faithfully, and then 
been left to starve. He begged of me to accom- 
pany him to his lodgings, where I could see his 
wife and starving children, and verify the truth 
and piteousness of his tale. 

"'Well, your Honour,* added the prisoner 
with noble frankness, ' it was my first day in the 
old country. I had come back after thirty years 
with my pockets full of gold, and this was the 
first sad tale I had heard ; but I am a business 
man, and did not want to be exactly " done " in 
the eye. I followed my man through the fog, 
out into the streets. He walked silently by my 
side for a time. I had not a notion where I was. 

" * Suddenly I turned to him with some question, 
and realised in a moment that my gentleman had 
given me the slip. Finding, probably, that I 
would not part with my money till I had seen the 
starving wife and children, he left me to my fate, 
and went in search of more willing bait. 

" * The place where I found myself was dismal 
and deserted. I could see no trace of cab or 
omnibus. I retraced my steps and tried to find 
my way back to the station, only to find myself 
in worse and more deserted neighbourhoods. I 
became hopelessly lost and fogged. I don't 



24 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

wonder that two and a half hours elapsed 
while I thus wandered on in the dark and de- 
serted streets ; my sole astonishment is that I ever 
found the station at all that night, or rather close 
to it a policeman, who showed me the way.* 

" * But how do you account for Kershaw know- 
ing all your movements ? ' still persisted his Hon- 
our, * and his knowing the exact date of your ar- 
rival in England ? How do you account for these 
two letters, in fact ? ' 

" * I cannot account for it or them, your Hon- 
our,* replied the prisoner quietly. * I have proved 
to you, have I not, that I never wrote those let- 
ters, and that the man — er — Kershaw is his name ? 
— ^was not murdered by me ? * 

" ' Can you tell me of anyone here or abroad 
who might have heard of your movements, and 
of the date of your arrival ? ' 

" * My late employes at Vladivostock, of course, 
knew of my departure, but none of them could 
have written these letters, since none of them 
know a word of English.' 

" * Then you can throw no light upon these 
mysterious letters ? You cannot help the police in 
any way towards the clearing up of this strange 
affair?' 

" * The affair is as mysterious to me as to your 
Honour, and to the police of this country.' 

" Francis Smethurst was discharged, of course ; 
there was no semblance of evidence against him 



A MILLIONAIRE IN THE DOCK 25 

sufficient to commit him for trial. The two over- 
whelming points of his defence which had com- 
pletely routed the prosecution were, firstly, the 
proof that he had never written the letters making 
the assignation, and secondly, the fact that the 
man supposed to have been murdered on the loth 
was seen to be alive and well on the i6th. But 
then, who in the world was the mysterious indi- 
vidual who had apprised Kershaw of the move- 
ments of Smethurst, the millionaire?" 



CHAPTER III 

HIS DEDUCTION 

The man in the corner cocked his funny thin 
head on one side and looked at Polly; then he 
took up his beloved bit of string and deliberately 
united every knot he had made in it. When it 
was quite smooth he laid it out upon the table. 

"I will take you, if you like, point by point 
along the line of reasoning which I followed my- 
self, and which will inevitably lead you, as it led 
me, to the only possible solution of the mystery. 

" First take this point," he said with nervous 
restlessness, once more taking up his bit of string, 
and forming with each point raised a series of 
knots which would have shamed a navigating in- 
structor, "obviously it was impossible for Ker- 
shaw not to have been acquainted with Smethurst, 
since he was fully apprised of the latter's arrival 
in England by two letters. Now it was clear to 
me from the first that no one could have written 
those two letters except Smethurst. You will ar- 
gue that those letters were proved not to have 
been written by the man in the dock. Exactly. 
Remember, Kershaw was a careless man — he had 
lost both envelopes. To him they were insignifi- 

26 



HIS DEDUCTION 27 

cant. , Now it was never disproved that those let- 
ters were written by Smethurst." 

" But " suggested Polly. 

" Wait a minute,'' he interrupted, while knot 
number two appeared upon the scene; **it was 
proved that six days after the murder William 
Kershaw was alive, and visited the Torriani 
Hotel, where already he was known, and where 
he conveniently left a pocket-book behind, so that 
there should be no mistake as to his identity; but 
it was never questioned where Mr. Francis Smet- 
hurst, the millionaire, happened to spend that 
very same afternoon." 

"Surely, you don't mean ?" gasped the 

girl. 

" One moment, please," he added triumphantly. 
" How did it come about that the landlord of the 
Torriani Hotel was brought into court at all? 
How did Sir Arthur Inglewood, or rather his 
client, know that William Kershaw had on those 
two memorable occasions visited the hotel, and 
that its landlord could bring such convincing evi- 
dence forward that would for ever exonerate the 
millionaire from the imputation of murder?" 

" Surely," I argued, " the usual means, the 
police " 

"The police had kept the whole affair very 
dark until the arrest at the Hotel Cecil. They 
did not put into the papers the usual: * If anyone 
happens to know of the whereabouts, etc., etc.* 



28 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Had the landlord of that hotel heard of the disap- 
pearance of Kershaw through the usual channels, 
he would have put himself in communication with 
the police. Sir Arthur Inglewood produced him. 
How did Sir Arthur Inglewood come on his 
track?" 

"Surely, you don't mean ? " 

" Point number four," he resumed imperturb- 
ably, " Mrs. Kershaw was never requested to pro- 
duce a specimen of her husband's handwriting. 
Why? Because the police, clever as you say they 
arc, never started on the right tack. They be- 
lieved WiUiam Kershaw to have been murdered; 
they looked for William Kershaw." 

" On December the 31st, what was presumed to 
be the body of William Kershaw was found by 
two lightermen : I have shown you a photograph 
of the place where it was found. Dark and de- 
serted it is in all conscience, is it not? Just the 
place where a bully and a coward would decoy an 
unsuspecting stranger, murder him first, then rob 
him of his valuables, his papers, his very identity, 
and leave him there to rot. The body was found 
in a disused barge which had been moored some 
time against the wall, at the foot of these steps. 
It was in the last stages of decomposition, and, 
of course, could not be identified; but the police 
would have it that it was the body of William 
Kershaw. 

" It never entered their heads that it was the 



HIS DEDUCTION 29 

body of Francis Stnethurst, and that William Ker* 
shaw was his murderer. 

"Ahl it was cleverly, artistically conceived! 
Kershaw is a genius. Think of it all I His dis- 
guise! Kershaw had a shaggy beard, hair, and 
moustache. He shaved up to his very eyebrows I 
No wonder that even his wife did not recognise 
him across the court ; and remember she never saw 
much of his face while he stood in the dock. Ker- 
shaw was shabby, slouchy, he stooped. Smethurst, 
the millionaire, might have served in the Prussian 
Army. 

"Then diat lovely trait about going to revisit 
the Torriani Hotel. Just a few days' grace, in 
order to purchase moustache and beard and wig, 
exactly similar to what he had himself shaved off. 
Making up to look like himself ! Splendid I Then 
leaving the pocket-book behind! He! he! he! 
Kershaw was not murdered I Of course not. He 
called at the Torriani Hotel six days after the 
murder, whilst Mr. Smethurst, the millionaire, 
hobnobbed in the park with duchesses! Hang 
such a man I Fie 1 " 

He fumbled for his hat. With nervous, trem- 
bling lingers he held it deferentially in his hand 
whilst he rose from the table. Polly watched him 
as he strode up to the desk, and paid two-pence 
for his glass of milk and his bun. Soon he disap- 
peared through the shop, whilst she still found 
herself hopelessly bewildered, with a number of 



30 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

snap-shot photographs before her, still staring at 
a long piece of string, smothered from end to end 
in a series of knots, as bewildering, as irritating, 
as puzzling as the man who had lately sat in the 
comer. 






CHAPTER IV 

THE ROBBERY IN PHILLIMORE TERRACE 

Whether Miss Polly Burton really did expect 
to see the man in the corner that Saturday after- 
noon, 'twere difficult to say ; certain it is that when 
she found her way to the table close by the window 
and realised that he was not there, she felt con- 
scious of an overwhelming sense of disappoint- 
ment. And yet during the whole of the week she 
had, with more pride than wisdom, avoided this 
particular A.B.C. shop. 

" I thought you would not keep away very 
long," said a quiet voice close to her ear. 

She nearly lost her balance — ^where in the world 
had he come from ? She certainly had not heard 
the slightest sound, and yet there he sat, in the 
corner, like a veritable Jack-in-the-box, his mild 
blue eyes staring apologetically at her, his nervous 
fingers toying with the inevitable bit of string. 

The waitress brought him his glass of milk and 
a cheese-cake. He ate it in silence, while his piece 
of string lay idly beside him on the table. When 
he had finished he fumbled in his capacious 
pockets, and drew out the inevitable pocket-book. 

Placing a small photograph before the girl, he 
said quietly: 

31 



32 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"That Is the back of the houses in PhiUi- 
more Terrace, which overlook Adam and Eve 
mews.'* 

She looked at the photograph, then at him, with 
a kindly look of indulgent expectancy. 

" You will notice that the row of back gardens 
have each an exit into the mews. These mews 
are built in the shape of a capital F. The photo- 
graph is taken looking straight down the short 
horizontal line, which ends, as you see^^ in a cul-- 
de-sMc. The bottom of the vertical line turns into 
Phillimore Terrace, and the end of the upper long 
horizontal line into High Street, Kensington. 
Now, on that particular night, or rather early 
morning, of January 15 th, Constable D 21, hav- 
ing turned into the mews from Phillimore Ter- 
race, stood for a moment at the angle formed by 
the long vertical artery of the mews and the short 
horizontal one which, as I observed before, looks 
on to the back gardens of the Terrace houses, and 
ends in a cuUde'Sac. 

" How long D 2 1 stood at that particular cor- 
ner he could not exactly say, but he thinks it must 
have been three or four minutes before he noticed 
a suspicious-looking individual shambling along 
under the shadow of the garden walls. He was 
working his way cautiously in the direction of the 
cul'de-saCp and D 2 1 , also keeping well within the 
shadow, went noiselessly after him. 

" He had almost overtaken him — ^was, in fact. 



ROBBERY IN PHILLIMORE TERRACE 33 

not more than thirty yards from him — ^when from 
mt of one of the two end houses — ^No. 22, Philli- 
more Terrace, in fact — a man, in nothing but his 
night shirt, rushed out excitedly, and, before D 
21 had time to intervene, literally threw himself 
upon the suspected individual, rolling over and 
over with him on the hard cobble-stones, and fran- 
tically shrieking, * Thief I Thief I Police I ' 

" It was some time before the constable suc- 
ceeded in rescuing the tramp from the excited grip 
of his assailant, and several minutes before he 
could make himself heard. 

*' * There I there ! that'll do I ' he managed to 
say at last, as he gave the man in the shirt a 
vigorous shove, which silenced him for the mo- 
ment. * Leave the man alone now, you mustn't 
make that noise this time o' night, wakin' up all 
the folks.' The unfortunate tramp, who in the 
meanwhile had managed to get on to his feet 
again, made no attempt to get away; probably he 
thought he would stand but a poor chance. But 
the man in the shirt had partly recovered his 
power of speech, and was now blurting out jerky, 
half-intelligible sentences : 

" * I have been robbed — ^robbed — I — ^that is-—* 
my master — ^Mr. Knopf. The desk is open — the 
diamonds gone — ^all in my charge — and — ^now 
they are stolen! That's the thief — I'll swear — I 
heard him — not three minutes ago^I rushed 
downstairs — ^the door into the garden was smashed 



34 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

— I ran across the garden — ^he was sneaking about 
here still — ^Thief I Thief I Police I Diamonds I 
Constable, don't let him go — ^I'U make you re- 
sponsible if you let him go——' 

" ' Now then — that'll do ! ' admonished D 2 1 
as soon as he could get a word in, ' stop that row, 
will you?' 

^^ The man in the shirt was gradually recover- 
ing from his excitement. 

*' * Can I give this man in charge ? ' he asked. 

"•What for?' 

" • Burglary and housebreaking. I heard him, 
I tell you. He must have Mr. Knopf's diamonds 
about him at this moment.' 

"* Where is Mr. Knopf?' 

Out of town,' groaned the man in the shirt. 

He went to Brighton last night, and left me in 
charge, and now this thief has been and ' 

^^The tramp shrugged his shoulders and sud- 
denly, without a word, he quietly began taking off 
his coat and waistcoat. These he handed across 
to the constable. Eagerly the man in the shirt 
fell on them, and turned the ragged pockets in- 
side out. From one of the windows a hilarious 
voice made some facetious remark, as the tramp 
with equal solemnity began divestmg himself of 
his nether garments. 

" * Now then, stop that nonsense,' pronounced 
D 21 severely, 'what were you doing here this 
time o' night, anyway ? ' 



(C i 



ROBBERY IN PHILLIMORE TERRACE 35 

" ' The streets o' London is free to the public, 
ain't they?' queried the tramp. 

** ' This don't lead nowhere, my man/ 

** * Then I've lost my way, that's all,' growled 
the man surlily, * and p'raps you'll let me get along 
now.' 

" By this time a couple of constables had ap- 
peared upon the scene. D 2 1 had no intention of 
losing sight of his friend the tramp, and the man 
in the shirt had again made a dash for the latter's 
collar at the bare idea that he should be allowed 
to * get along.* 

" I think D 2 1 was alive to the humour of the 
situation. He suggested that Roberston (the man 
in the night-shirt) should go in and get some 
clothes on, whilst he himself would wait for the 
inspector and the detective, whom D 15 would 
send round from the station immediately. 

"Poor Robertson's teeth were chattering with 
cold. He had a violent fit of sneezing as D 21 
hurried him into the house. The latter, with an- 
other constable, remained to watch the burglared 
premises both back and front, and D 15 took the 
wretched tramp to the station with a view to send- 
ing an inspector and a detective round imme- 
diately. 

" When the two latter gentlemen arrived at No. 
22 Phillimore Terrace, they found poor old 
Robertson in bed, shivering, and still quite blue. 
He had got himself a hot drink, but his eyes were 



36 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

streaming and his voice was terribly husky. D 
21 had stationed himself in the dinIng-room» 
where Robertson had pointed the desk out to him, 
with its broken lock and scattered contents. 

" Robertson, between his sneezes, gave what 
account he could of the events which happened im- 
mediately before the robbery. 

"His master, Mr. Ferdinand Knopf, he said, 
was a diamond merchant, and a bachelor. He 
himself had been in Mr. Knopf's employ over 
fifteen years, and was his only indoor servant. 
A charwoman came every day to do the house- 
work. 

" Last night Mn Knopf dined at the house of 
Mr. %ipman, at No. 26, lower down. Mr. Shift- 
man is the great jeweller who has his place of 
business in South Audley Street. By the last post 
there came a letter with the Brighton postmark, 
and marked * urgent,' for Mr. Knopf, and he 
(Robertson) was just wondering if he should run 
over to No. 26 with it, when his master returned. 
He gave one glance at the contents of the letter, 
asked for his A. B. C. Railway Guide, and or- 
dered him (Robertson) to pack his bag at once 
and fetch him a cab. 

** * I guessed what it was,' continued Robertson 
after another violent fit of sneezing. * Mr. Knopf 
has a brother, Mr. Emile Knopf, to whom he is 
very much attached, and who is a great invalid. 
He generally goes about from one seaside place 



ROBBERY IN PHILLIMORE TERRACE 37 

to another. He is now at Brighton, and has re- 
cently been very ill. 

" * If you will take the trouble to go down- 
stairs I think you will still find the letter lying 
on the hall table. 

***I read it after Mr. Knopf left; it was not 
from his brother, but from a gentleman who 
signed himself J. Collins, M. D. I don't remem- 
ber the exact words, but, of course, you'll be able 
to read the letter — Mr. J. Collins said he had 
been called in very suddenly to see Mr. Emile 
Knopf, who, he added, had not many hours to 
live, and had begged of the doctor to communi- 
cate at once with his brother in London. 

" * Before leaving, Mr. Knopf warned me that 
there were some valuables in his desk — diamonds 
mostly, and told me to be particularly careful 
about locking up the house. He often has left 
me like this in charge of his premises, and usually 
there have been diamonds in his desk, for Mr. 
Knopf has no regular city office, as he is a com- 
mercial traveller.' 

" This, briefly, was the gist of the matter which 
Robertson related to the inspector with many rep- 
etitions and persistent volubility. 

" The detective and inspector, before returning 
to the station with their report, thought they 
would call at No. 26, on Mr. Shipman, the great 
jeweller. 

" You remember, of course," added the man in 



38 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

the corner, dreamily contemplating his bit of 
string, ^'the exciting developments of this ex- 
traordinary case. Mr. Arthur Shipman is the 
head of the firm of Shipman and Co., the wealthy 
jewellers. He is a widower, and lives very 
quietly by himself in his own old-fashioned way 
in the small Kensington house, leaving it to his 
two married sons to keep up the style and swagger 
befitting the representatives of so wealthy a firm. 

" * I have only known Mr. Knopf a very little 
while,' he explained to the detectives. * He sold 
me two or three stones once or twice, I think; 
but we are both single men, and we have often 
dined together. Last night he dined with me. He 
had that afternoon received a very fine consign- 
ment of Brazilian diamonds, as he told me, and 
knowing how beset I am with callers at my busi- 
ness place, he had brought the stones with him, 
hoping, perhaps, to do a bit of trade over the nuts 
and wine. 

" * I bought £25,000 worth of him,' added the 
jeweller, as if he were speaking of so many far- 
things, ^ and gave him a cheque across the dinner 
table for that amount. I think we were both 
pleased with our bargain, and we had a final 
bottle of '48 port over it together. Mr. Knop£ 
left me at about 9.30, for he knows I go very early 
to bed, and I took my new stock upstairs with me, 
gnd locked it up in the safe. I certainly heard 
nothing of the noise in the mews last night. I 



ROBBERY IN PHILLIMORE TERRACE 39 

sleep on the second floor, in the front of the house, 
and this is the first I have heard of poor Mr. 
Knopfs loss * 

*^At this point of his narrative Mn Shipman 
very suddenly paused, and his face became very 
pale. With a hasty word of excuse he uncere- 
moniously left the room, and the detective heard 
him running quickly upstairs. 

^^ Less than two minutes later Mr. SHipman re* 
turned. There was no need for him to speak; 
k)th the detective and the inspector guessed the 
truth in a moment by the look upon his face. 

** * The diamonds * he gasped. * I have 

keen robbed.' '* 



CHAPTER V 

A night's adventure 

"Now I must tell you," continued the man in 
the comer, "that after I had read the account 
of the double robbery, which appeared in the early 
afternoon papers, I set to work and had a good 
think — ^yes ! " he added with a smile, noting Polly's 
look at the bit of string, on which he was still 
at work, "yes! aided by this small adjunct to 
continued thought — I made notes as to how I 
should proceed to discover the clever thief, who 
had carried off a small fortune in a single night. 
Of course, my methods are not those of a London 
detective ! he had his own way of going to work. 
The one who was conducting this case questioned 
the unfortunate jeweller very closely about his 
servants and his household generally. 

*'*I have three servants,' explained Mr. Ship- 
man, * two of whom have been with me for many 
years; one, the housemaid, is a fairly new-comer 
— ^she has been here about six months. She came 
recommended by a friend, and bore an excellent 
character. She and the parlour-maid room to- 
gether. The cook, who knew me when I was a 
schoolboy, sleeps alone; all three servants sleep 
on the floor above. I locked the jewels up in 

40 



«> 
« 



A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 41 

the safe which stands in the dressing-room. My 
keys and watch I placed, as usual, beside my bed. 
As a rule, I am a fairly light sleeper. 

" * I cannot understand how it could have hap- 
pened — ^but — ^you had better come up and have a 
look at the safe. The key must have been ab- 
stracted from my bedside, the safe opened, and 
the keys replaced — all while I was fast asleep. 
Though I had no occasion to look into the safe 
until just now, I should have discovered my loss 
before going to business, for I intended to take 
the diamonds away with me ' 

"The detective and the inspector went up to 
have a look at the safe. The lock had in no way 
been tampered with — it had been opened with its 
own key. The detective spoke of chloroform, but 
Mr. Shipman declared that when he woke in the 
morning at about half-past seven there was no 
smell of chloroform in the room. However^ the 
proceedings of the daring thief certainly pointed 
to the use of an anaesthetic. An examination of 
the premises brought to light the fact that the 
burglar had, as in Mr. Knopf's house, used the 
glass-panelled door from the garden as a means 
of entrance, but in this instance he had carefully 
cut out the pane of glass with a diamond, slipped 
the bolts, turned the key, and walked in. 

" ' Which among your servants knew that you 
had the diamonds in your house last night, Mr» 
Shipman ? ' asked the detective. 



42 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 



C( ( 



Not one, I should say,' replied the jeweller, 
* though, perhaps, the parlour-maid, whilst wait- 
ing at table, may have heard me and Mr. Knopf 
discussing our bargain/ 

"* Would you object to my searching all your 
servants' boxes ? ' 

" ' Certainly not. They would not object, 
either, I am sure. They are perfecdy honest.' 

"The searching of servants' belongings is in- 
variably a useless proceeding," added the man in 
the corner, with a shrug of the shoulders. " No 
one, not even a latter-day domestic, would be fool 
enough to keep stolen property in the house. How- 
ever, the usual farce was gone through, with more 
or less protest on the part of Mr. Shipman's serv- 
ants, and with the usual result. 

"The jeweller could give no further informa- 
tion; the detective and inspector, to do them jus-» 
tice, did their work of investigation minutely and, 
what is more, intelligently. It seemed evident, 
from their deductions, that the burglar had com* 
menced proceedings on No. 26 Phillimore Ter- 
race, and had then gone on, probably climbing 
over the garden walls between the houses to No. 
22, where he was almost caught in the act by 
Robertson. The facts were simple enough, but 
the mystery remained as to the individual who had 
managed to glean the information of the presence 
of the diamonds in both the houses, and the means 
which he had adopted to get that information. It 



A NIGHT^S ADVENTURE 43 

was obvious that the thief or thieves knew more 
about Mr. Knopf's affairs than Mr. Shipman's, 
since they had known how to use Mr. Emile 
Knopf's name in order to get his brother out of 
the way. 

" It was now nearly ten o'clock, and the de- 
tectives, having taken leave of Mr. Shipman, went 
back to No. 22, in order to ascertain whether Mr. 
Knopf had come back; the door was opened by 
the old charwoman, who said that her master had 
returned, and was having some breakfast in the 
dining-room. 

" Mr. Ferdinand Knopf was a middle-aged 
man, with sallow complexion, black hair and 
beard, of obviously Hebrew extraction. He spoke 
with a marked foreign accent, but very courte- 
ously, to the two officials, who, he begged, would 
excuse him if he went on with his breakfast. 

" ' I was fully prepared to hear the bad news,' 
he explained, * which my man Robertson told me 
when I arrived. The letter I got last night was 
a bogus one ; there is no such person as J. Collins, 
M. D. My brother had never felt better in his 
life. You will, I am sure, very soon trace the 
cunning writer of that epistle — ah! but I was in 
a rage, I can tell you, when I got to the Metro- 
pole at Brighton, and found that Emile, my 
brother, had never heard of any Doctor Collins. 

" * The last train to town had gone, although I 
raced back to the station as hard as I could. Poor 



44 THE MAN IN THE CX)RNER 

old Robertson, he has a terrible cold. Ah yes I 
my loss ! it is for me a very serious one ; if I had 
not made that lucky bargain with Mr. Shipman 
last night I should, perhaps, at this moment be a 
ruined man. 

" * The stones I had yesterday were, firsdy, some 
magnificent Brazilians; these I sold to Mr. Ship* 
man mostly. Then I had some very good Cape 
diamonds — all gone ; and some quite special Paris- 
ians, of wonderful work and finish, entrusted to 
me for sale by a great French house. I tell you, 
sir, my loss will be nearly £10,000 altogether. I 
sell on commission, and, of course, have to make 
good the loss.' 

"He was evidently trying to bear up man- 
fully, and as a business man should, under his sad 
fate. He refused in any way to attach the slight- 
est blame to his old and faithful servant Robert- 
son, who had caught, perhaps, his death of cold 
In his zeal for his absent master. As for any hint 
of suspicion falling even remotely upon the man^ 
the very idea appeared to Mr. Knopf absolutely 
preposterous. 

"With regard to the old charwoman, Mr. 
Knopf certainly knew nothing about her, beyond 
the fact that she had been reconmiended to him 
by one of the tradespeople in the neighbourhood, 
and seemed perfecdy honest, respectable, and 
sober. 

" About the tramp Mr. Knopf knew still less, 



A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 45 

nor could he imagine how he, or in fact anybody 
else, could possibly know that he happened to 
have diamonds in his house that night. 

"This certainly seemed the great hitch in the 
case. 

" Mr. Ferdinand Knopf, at the instance of the 
police, later on went to the station and had a look 
at the suspected tramp. He declared that he had 
never set eyes on him before. 

" Mr. Shipman, on his way home from busi- 
ness in the afternoon, had done likewise, and made 
a similar statement. 

"Brought before the magistrate, the tramp 
gave but a poor account of himself. He gave a 
name and address, which latter, of course, proved 
to be false. After that he absolutely refused to 
speak. He seemed not to care whether he was 
kept in custody or not. Very soon even the police 
realised that, for the present, at any rate, nothing 
could be got out of the suspected tramp. 

" Mr. Francis Howard, the detective, who had 
charge of the case, though he would not admit it 
even to himself, was at his wits' ends. You must 
remember that the burglary, through its very sim- 
plicity, was an exceedingly mysterious affair. The 
constable, D 21, who had stood In Adam and Eve 
mews, presumably while Mr. Knopf's house was 
being robbed, had seen no one turn out from the 
cuUde-sac into the main passage of the mews. 

" The stables, which immediately faced the back 



46 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

entrance of the PhiUimore Terrace houses, were 
all private ones belonging to residents in the neigh- 
bourhood. The coachmeni their families, and all 
the grooms who slept in the stablings were rigidly 
watched and questioned. One and all had seen 
nothingi heard nothing, until Robertson's shrieks 
had roused them from their sleep. 

" As for the letter from Brighton, it was ab- 
solutely commonplace, and written upon notepaper 
which the detective, with Macchiavellian cunning, 
traced to a stationer's shop in West Street. But 
the trade at that particular shop was a very brisk 
one; scores of people had bought notepaper there, 
similar to that on which the supposed doctor had 
written his tricky letter. The handwriting was 
cramped, perhaps a disguised one; in any case, 
except under very exceptional circumstances, it 
could afford no clue to the identity of the thief. 
Needless to say, the tramp, when told to write 
his name, wrote a totally different and absolutely 
uneducated hand. 

" Matters stood, however, in the same persist- 
ently mysterious state when a small discovery was 
made, which suggested to Mr., Francis Howard 
an idea, which, if properly carried out, would, 
he hoped, inevitably bring the cunning burglar 
safely within the grasp of the police. 

"That was the discovery of a few of Mr. 
Knopf's diamonds," continued the man in the cor- 
ner after a slight pause, " evidently trampled into 



A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 47 

the ground by the thief whilst making his hur- 
ried exit through the garden of No. 22 Philli-^ 
more Terrace. 

''At the end of this garden there is a small 
studio which had been built by a former owner 
of the house, and behind it a small piece of waste 
ground about seven feet square which had once 
been a rockery, and is still filled with large loose 
stones, in the shadow of which earwigs and wood- 
lice innumerable have made a happy hunting 
ground. 

"It was Robertson who, two days after the 
robbery, having need one day of a large stone, 
for some household purpose or other, dislodged 
one from that piece of waste ground, and found 
a few shining pebbles beneath it. Mr. Knopf 
took them round to the police-station himself im- 
mediately, and identified the stones as some of 
his Parisian ones. 

" Later on the detective went to view the place 
where the find had been made, and there con- 
ceived the plan upon which he built his cherished 
hopes. 

"Acting upon the advice of Mr. Francis 
Howard, the police decided to let the anonymous 
tramp out of his safe retreat within the station, 
and to allow him to wander whithersoever he 
chose. A good idea, perhaps — ^the presumption 
being that, sooner or later, if the man was in 
any way mixed up with the cunning thieves, he 



48 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

would cither rejoin his comrades or even lead the 
police to where the remnant of his hoard lay 
hidden; needless to say, his footsteps were to be 
literally dogged. 

"The wretched tramp, on his discharge, wan- 
dered out of the yard, wrapping his thin coat 
round his shoulders, for it was a bitterly cold af- 
ternoon. He began operations by turning into 
the Town Hall Tavern for a good feed and a 
copious drink. Mr. Francis Howard noted that 
he seemed to eye every passer-by with suspicion, 
but he seemed to enjoy his dinner, and sat some 
time over his bottle of wine. 

** It was close upon four o'clock when he left 
the tavern, and then began for the indefatigable 
Mr. Howard one of the most wearisome and un- 
interesting chases, through the mazes of the Lon- 
don streets, he ever remembers to have made. 
Up Notting Hill, down the slums of Netting 
Dale, along the High Street, beyond Hammer- 
smith, and through Shepherd's Bush did that 
anonymous tramp lead the unfortunate detective, 
never hurrying himself, stopping every now 
and then at a public-house to get a drink, 
whither Mr. Howard did not always care to fol- 
low him. 

" In spite of his fatigue, Mr. Francis Howard's 
hopes rose with every half hour of this weary 
tramp. The man was obviously striving to kill 
time; he seemed to feel no weariness, but walked 



A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 49 

on and on, perhaps suspecting that he was being 
followed. 

" At last, with a beating heart, though half per- 
ished with cold, and with terribly sore feet, the 
detective began to realise that the tramp was 
gradually working his way back towards Ken* 
sington. It was then close upon eleven o'clock 
at night; once or twice the man had walked up 
and down the High Street, from St. Paul's School 
to Derry and Toms' shops and back again, he 
had looked down one or two of the side streets 
and — at last — ^he turned into Phillimore Terrace* 
He seemed in no hurry, he even stopped once in 
the middle of the road, trying to light a pipe, 
which, as there was a high east wind, took him 
some considerable time. Then he leisurely saun- 
tered down the street, and turned into Adam and 
Eve mews, with Mr. Francis Howard now dose 
at his heels. 

" Acting upon the detective's instructions, diere 
were several men in plain clothes ready to his call 
in the immediate neighbourhood. Two stood 
within the shadow of the steps of the Congrega- 
tional Church at the corner of the mews, others 
were stationed well within a soft call. 

" Hardly, therefore, had the hare turned into 
the cul-de-sac at the back of Phillimore Terrace 
than, at a slight sound from Mr. Francis Howard, 
every egress was barred to him, and he was 
caught like a rat in a trap. 



50 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

''As soon as the tramp had advanced some 
thirty yards or so (the whole length of this part 
of the mews is about one hundred yards) and was 
lost in the shadow, Mr. Francis Howard directed 
four or five of his men to proceed cautiously up 
the mews, whilst the same number were to form 
a line all along the front of Phillimore Terrace 
between the mews and the High Street. 

" Remember, the back-garden walls threw long 
and dense shadows, but the silhouette of the man 
would be clearly outlined if he made any attempt 
at climbing over them. Mr. Howard fdt quite 
sure that the thief was bent on recovering the 
stolen goods, which, no doubt, he had hidden in 
the rear of one of the houses. He would be 
caught in flagrante delicto, and, with a heavy 
sentence hovering over him, he would probably be 
induced to name his accomplice. Mr. Francis 
Howard was thoroughly enjoying himself. 

'' The minutes sped on ; absolute silence, in spite 
of the presence of so many men, reigned in the 
dark and deserted mews. 

"Of course, this night's adventure was never 
allowed to get into the papers,*' added the man 
in the corner with his mild smile. " Had the plan 
been successful, we should have heard all about 
it, with a long eulogistic article as to the astute- 
ness of our police ; but as it was — ^well, the tramp 
sauntered up the mews — and — there he remained 
for aught Mr. Francis Howard or the other con- 



A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE 51 

stables could ever explain. The earth or the 
shadows swallowed him up. No one saw him 
climb one of the garden walls, no one heard him 
break open a door; he had retreated within the 
shadow of the garden walls, and was seen or 
heard of no more." 

" One of the servants in the Phillimore Terrace 
houses must have belonged to the gang," said 
Polly with quick decision. 

"Ah, yes! but which?" said the man in the 
corner, making a beautiful knot in his bit of string. 
" I can assure you that the police left not a stone 
unturned once more to catch sight of that tramp 
whom they had had in custody for two days, but 
not a trace of him could they find, nor of the dia- 
monds, from that day to this." 



CHAPTER VI 



ALL HE KNEW 



''The tramp was missing," condnued the man 
in the comer, *'and Mr. Francis Howard tried 
to find the missing tramp. Going round to the 
front, and seeing the lights at No. 26 still in, he 
called upon Mr. Shipman. The jeweller had had 
a few friends to dinner, and was giving them 
whiskies and sodas before saying good-night. The 
servants had just finished washing up, and were 
waiting to go to bed; neither they nor Mr. Ship- 
man nor his guests had seen or heard anything of 
the suspicious individual. 

" Mr. Francis Howard went on to see Mr. Fer- 
dinand Knopf. This gentleman was having his 
warm bath, preparatory to going to bed. So 
Robertson told the detective. However, Mr. 
Knopf insisted on talking to Mr. Ho^viard through 
his bath-room door. Mr. Knopf thanked him for 
all the trouble he was taking, and felt sure that 
he and Mr. Shipman would soon recover posses- 
sion of their diamonds, thanks to the persever- 
ing detective. 

"He! he I he I" laughed the man in the 
comer. " Poor Mr. Howard. He persevered — 
but got no farther; no, nor anyone else, for that 

59 



cc 



ALL HE KNEW 53 

matter. Even I might not be able to convict 
the thieves if I told all I knew to the police. 

" Now, follow my reasoning, point by point," 
he added eagerly. 

"Who knew of the presence of the diamonds 
in the house of Mr. Shipman and Mr. Knopf? 
Firstly," he said, putting up an ugly dawlike 
finger, " Mr. Shipman, then Mr. Knopf, then pre- 
sumably, the man Robertson." 
And the tramp?" said Polly. 
Leave the tramp alone for the present since 
he has vanished, and take point number two. 
Mr. Shipman was drugged. That was pretty ob- 
vious; no man under ordinary circumstances 
would, without waking, have his keys abstracted 
and ^en replaced at his own bedside. Mr. 
Howard suggested that the thief was armed with 
some anaesthetic; but how did the thief get into 
Mr. Shipman's room without waking him from 
his natural sleep? Is it not simpler to suppose 
that the thief had taken the precaution to drug 
the jeweller before the latter went to bed?" 

" But " 

"Wait a moment, and take point number 
three. Though there was every proof that Mr. 
Shipman had been in possession of £25,000 worth 
of goods smce Mr. Knopf had a cheque from him 
for that amount, there was no proof that in Mr. 
Knopf's house there was even an odd stone worth 
a sovereign. 



54 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

** And then again," went on the scarecrow, get- 
ting more and more excited, " did it ever strike 
you, or anybody else, that at no time, while the 
tramp was in custody, while all that searching ex- 
amination was being gone on with, no one ever 
saw Mr. Knopf and his man Robertson together at 
the same time? 

" Ah ! " he continued, whilst suddenly the young 
girl seemed to see the whole thing as in a vision, 
" they did not forget a single detail — follow them 
. with me, point by point. Two cunning scoundrels 
* — geniuses they should be called — ^well provided 
with some ill-gotten funds — ^but determined on a 
grand coup. They play at respectability, for six 
months, say. One is the master, the other the ser- 
vant; they take a house In the same street as their 
intended victim, make friends with him, accom- 
plish one or two creditable but very small busi- 
ness transactions, always drawing on the reserve 
funds, which might even have amounted to a few. 
hundred — and a bit of credit. 

"Then the Brazilian diamonds, and the Paris- 
ians — ^which, remember, were so perfect that they 
required chemical testing to be detected. The 
Parisian stones are sold — ^not in business, of course 
— in the evening, after dinner and a good deal of 
wine. Mr. Knopf's Brazilians were beautiful; 
perfect I Mr. Knopf was a well-known diamond 
merchant. 

" Mr. Shipman bought — ^but with the morning 






ALL HE KNEW 55 

would have come sober sense, the cheque stopped 
before it could have been presented, the swindler 
caught. No 1 those exquisite Parisians were never 
intended to rest in Mr. Shipman's safe until the 
morning. That last bottle of '48 port, with the 
aid of a powerful soporific, insured that Mr. Ship- 
man would sleep undisturbed during the night. 

"Ahl remember all the details, they were so 
admirable! the letter posted in Brighton by the 
cunning rogue to himself, the smashed desk, the 
broken pane of glass in his own house. The man 
Robertson on the watch, while Knopf himself in 
ragged clothing found his way into No. 26. If 
Constable D 2 1 had not appeared upon the scene 
that exciting comedy in the early morning would 
not have been enacted. As it was, in the supposed 
fight, Mr. Shipman's diamonds passed from the 
hands of the tramp into those of his accomplice. 

"Then, later on, Robertson, ill in bed, while 
his master was supposed to have returned — ^by the 
way, It never struck anybody that no one saw Mr. 
Knopf come home, though he surely would have 
driven up in a cab. Then the double part played 
by one man for the next two days. It certainly 
never struck either the police or the inspector. Re- 
member they only saw Robertson when in bed 
with a streaming cold. But Knopf had to be got 
out of gaol as soon as possible; the dual role 
could not have been kept up for long. Hence 
the story of the diamonds found in the garden of 



56 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

No, 22. The cunning rogues guessed that the 
usual plan would be acted upon, and the suspected 
thief allowed to visit the scene where his hoard lay 
hidden. 

** It had all been foreseen, and Robertson must 
have been constandy on the watch. The tramp 
stopped, mind you, in Phillimore Terrace for some 
moments, lighting a pipe. The accomplice, then, 
was fully on the alert; he slipped the bolts of the 
back garden gate. Five minutes later Knopf was 
in the house, in a hot bath, getting rid of the dis- 
guise of our friend the tramp. Remember that 
again here the detective did not actually see him. 

** The next morning Mr. Knopf, black hair and 
beard and all, was himself again. The whole 
trick lay in one simple art, which those two cun- 
ning rascals knew to absolute perfection, the art 
of impersonating one another. 

"They are brothers, presumably — ^twin broth- 
ers, I should say.'' 

" But Mr. Knopf " suggested Polly. 

"Well, look in the Trades' Directory; you will 
see F. Knopf & Co., diamond merchants, of some 
city address. Ask about the firm among the 
trade ; you will hear that it is firmly established on 
a sound financial basis. He! he! he! and it de- 
serves to be," added the man in the corner, as, 
calling for the waitress, he received his ticket, and 
taking up his shabby hat, took himself and his 
bit of string rapidly out of the room. 



CHAPTER VII 



THE YORK MYSTERY 



The man in the comer looked quite cheerful 
that morning; he had had two glasses of milk and 
had even gone to the extravagance of an extra 
cheese-cake. Polly knew that he was itching to 
talk police and murders, for he cast furtive glances 
at her from time to time, produced a bit of 
string, tied and untied it into scores of compli- 
cated knots, and finally, bringing out his pocket* 
book, he placed two or three photographs before 
her, 

" Do you know who that is?" he asked, point- 
ing to one of these. 

The girl looked at the face on the picture. It 
was that of a woman, not exactly pretty, but very 
gentle and childlike, with a strange pathetic look 
in the large eyes which was wonderfully ap- 
pealing. 

" That was Lady Arthur Skelmerton," he said, 
and in a flash there flitted before Polly's mind the 
weird and tragic history which had broken this 
loving woman's heart. Lady Arthur Skelmerton 1 
That name recalled one of the most bewildering, 
most mysterious passages in the annals of undis- 
covered crimes. 

57 



58 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"Yes. It was sad, wasn't it?" he commented, 
in answer to Polly's thoughts. "Another case 
which but for idiotic blunders on the part of the 
police must have stood clear as daylight before the 
public and satisfied general anxiety. Would you 
object to my recapitulating its preliminary de* 
tails?" 

She said nothing, so he continued without wait* 
ing further for a reply. 

" It all occurred during the York racing week, 
a time which brings to the quiet cathedral city 
its quota of shady characters, who congregate 
wherever money and wits happen to fly away from 
their owners. Lord Arthur Skelmerton, a very 
well-known figure in London society and in racing 
circles, had rented one of the fine houses which 
overlook the racecourse. He had entered Pepper- 
corn, by St. Armand — ^Notrc Dame, for the Great 
Ebor Handicap. Peppercorn was the winner of 
the Newmarket, and his chances for the Ebor 
were considered a practical certainty. 

" If you have ever been to York you will have 
noticed the fine houses which have their drive and 
front entrances in the road called ' The Mount,' 
and the gardens of which extend as far as the 
racecourse, commanding a lovely view over the 
entire track. It was one of these houses, called 
* The Elms,' which Lord Arthur Skelmerton had 
rented for the summer. 

" Lady Arthur came down some little time be- 



THE YORK MYSTERY 59 

fore the racing week with her servants — she had 
no children ; but she had many relatives and friends 
in York, since she was the daughter of old Sir 
John Etty, the cocoa manufacturer, a rigid 
Quaker, who, it was generally said, kept the tight- 
est possible hold on his own pursestrings and 
looked with marked disfavour upon his aristo- 
cratic son-in-law's fondness for gaming tables and 
betting books. 

" As a matter of fact, Maud Etty had married 

the handsome young lieutenant in the ^th 

Hussars, quite against her father's wishes. But 
she was an only child, and after a good deal of 
demur and grumbling, Sir John, who idolised 
his daughter, gave way to her whim, and a re- 
luctant consent to the marriage was wrung from 
him. 

"But, as a Yorkshireman, he was far too 
shrewd a man of the world not to know that love 
played but a very small part in persuading a 
Duke's son to marry the daughter of a cocoa man- 
ufacturer, and as long as he lived he determined 
that since his daughter was being wed because of 
her wealth, that wealth should at least secure her 
own happiness. He refused to give Lady Arthur 
any capital, which, in spite of the most care- 
fully-worded settlements, would inevitably, sooner 
or later, have found its way into the pockets of 
Lord Arthur's racing friends. But he made his 
daughter a very handsome allowance, amounting 



6o THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

to over £3,000 a year, which enabled her to keep 
up an establishment befitting her new rank. 

" A great many of these facts, intimate enough 
as they are, leaked out, you see, during that period 
of intense excitement which followed the murder 
of Charles Lavender, and when the public eye was 
fixed searchingly upon Lord Arthur Skelmerton, 
probing all the Inner details of his idle, useless 
life. 

**It soon became a matter of common gossip 
that poor little Lady Arthur continued to worship 
her handsome husband in spite of his obvious neg- 
lect, and not having as yet presented him with an 
heir, she settled herself down into a life of humble 
apology for her plebeian existence, atoning for it 
by condoning all his faults and forgiving all his 
vices, even to the extent of cloaking them before 
the prying eyes of Sir John, who was persuaded 
to look upon his son-in-law as a paragon of all 
the domestic virtues and a perfect model of a 
husband. 

"Among Lord Arthur Skelmerton's many ex- 
pensive tastes there was certainly that for horse- 
flesh and cards. After some successful betting at 
the beginning of his married life, he had started 
a racing-stable which it was generally believed — 
as he was very lucky — was a regular source of in- 
come to him. 

" Peppercorn, however, after his brilliant per- 
formances at Newmarket, did not continue to f ul- 



THE YORK MYSTERY 6i 

fil his master's expectations. His collapse at York 
was attributed to the hardness of the course and 
to various other causes, but its immediate effect 
was to put Lord Arthur Skelmerton in what is 
popularly called a tight place, for he had backed 
his horse for all he was worth, and must have 
stood to lose considerably over £5,000 on that 
one day. 

^* The collapse of the favourite and the grand 
victory of King Cole, a rank outsider, on the other 
hand, had proved a golden harvest for the book- 
makers, and all the York hotels were busy with 
dinners and suppers given by the confraternity of 
the Turf to celebrate the happy occasion. The 
next day was Friday, one of few important rac- 
ing events, after which the brilliant and the shady 
throng which had flocked into the venerable city 
for the week would fly to more congenial climes, 
and leave it, with its fine old .Minster and its 
ancient walls, as sleepy, as quiet zi before. 

^'Lord Arthur Skelmerton also intended to 
leave York on the Saturday, and on the Friday 
night he gave a farewell bachelor dinner party at 
* The Elms,' at which Lady Arthur did not ap- 
pear. After dinner the gentlemen settled down to 
bridge, with pretty stiff points, you may be sure. 
It had just struck eleven at the Minster Tower, 
when constables McNaught and Murphy, who 
were patrolling the racecourse, were startled by 
loud cries of * murder ' and ^ police.' 



62 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"Quickly ascertaining whence these cries pro- 
ceeded, they hurried on at a gallop, and came up 
— quite close to the boundary of Lord Arthur Skel- 
merton's grounds — ^upon a group of three men, 
two of whom seemed to be wrestling vigorously 
with one another, whilst the third was lying face 
downwards on the ground. As soon as the con- 
stables drew near, one of the wrestlers shouted 
more vigorously, and with a certain tone of au- 
thority: 

"'Here, you fellows, hurry up, sharp; the 
brute is giving me the slip I * 

" But the brute did not seem inclined to do any- 
thing of the sort; he certainly extricated himself 
with a violent jerk from his assailant's grasp, but 
made no attempt to run away. The constables 
had quickly dismounted, whilst he who had 
shouted for help originally added more quietly: 

" * My name is Skelmerton. This is the bound- 
ary of my property. I was smoking a cigar at 
the pavilion over there with a friend when I 
heard loud voices, followed by a cry and a groan. 
I hurried down the steps, and saw this poor fellow 
lying on the ground, with a knife sticking between 
his shoulder-blades, and his murderer,* he added, 
pointing to the man who stood quietly by with 
Constable McNaught's firm grip upon his shoul- 
der, * still stooping over the body of his victim. 
I was too late, I fear, to save the latter, but just 
in time to grapple with the assassin ' 



THE YORK MYSTERY 63 

" * It's a He I ' here interrupted the man hoarsely. 
^ I didn't do it, constable ; I swear I didn't do it. 
I saw him fall — I was coming along a couple 
of hundred yards away, and I tried to see if 
the poor fellow was dead. I swear I didn't 
do it." 

" * You'll have to explain that to the inspector 
presendy, my man,' was Constable McNaught's 
quiet comment, and, still vigorously protesting his 
innocence, the accused allowed himself to be led 
away, and the body was conveyed to the station, 
pending fuller identification. 

" The ne3ct morning the papers were full of the 
tragedy ; a column and a half of the York Herald 
was devoted to an account of Lord Arthur Skel- 
merton's plucky capture of the assassin. The lat- 
ter had continued to declare his innocence, but had 
remarked, it appears, with grim humour, that 
he quite saw he was in a tight place, out of which, 
however, he would find it easy to extricate him- 
self. He had stated to the police that the de- 
ceased's name was Charles Lavender, a well- 
known bookmaker, which fact was soon verified, 
for many of the murdered man's * pals ' were still 
in the city. 

"So far the most pushing of newspaper re- 
porters had been unable to glean further informa- 
tion from the police; no one doubted, however, 
but that the man in charge, who gave his name as 
George Higgins, had killed the bookmaker for 



64 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

purposes of robbery. The inquest had been fixed 
for the Tuesday after the murder. 

" Lord Arthur had been obliged to stay in York 
a few daySy as his evidence would be needed. That 
fact gave the case, perhaps, a certain amount of 
interest as far as York and London * society ' were 
concerned. Charles Lavender, moreover, was 
well known on the turf; but no bombshell ex- 
ploding beneath the walls of the ancient cathedral 
city could more have astonished its inhabitants 
than the news which, at about five in the after- 
noon on the day of the inquest, spread like wild- 
fire throughout the town. That news was that 
the inquest had concluded at three o'clock with a 
verdict of * Wilful murder against some person 
or persons unknown,' and that two hours later the 
police had arrested Lord Arthur Skelmerton at 
his private residence, *The Elms,' and charged 
him on a warrant with the murder of Charles 
Lavender, the bookmaker." 



CHAPTER VIII 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 



" The police, it appears, instinctively feeling that 
some mystery lurked round the death of the book- 
maker and his supposed murderer's quiet protes- 
tations of innocence, had taken a very considerable 
amount of trouble in collecting all the evidence 
they could for the inquest which might throw some 
light upon Charles Lavender's life, previous to his 
tragic end. Thus it was that a very large array 
of witnesses was brought before the coroner, chief 
among whom was, of course, Lord Arthur Skel-' 
merton. 

"The first witnesses called were the two con- 
stables, who deposed that, just as the church 
clocks in the neighbourhood were striking eleven, 
they had heard the cries for help, had ridden to 
the spot whence the sounds proceeded, and had 
found the prisoner in the tight grasp of Lord 
Arthur Skelmerton, who at once accused the man 
of murder, and gave him in charge. Both con- 
stables gave the same version of the incident, and 
both were positive as to the time when it occurred. 

" Medical evidence went to prove that the de- 
ceased had been stabbed from behind between the 

6s 



66 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

shoulder bhdes whilst he was walking, that the 
wound was inflicted by a large hunting knife, 
which was produced, and which had been left stick- 
ing in the wound. 

^^ Lord Arthur Skelmerton was then called and 
substantially repeated what he had already told 
the constables. He stated, namely, that on the 
night in question he had some gentlemen friends 
to dinner, and afterwards bridge was played. He 
himself was not playing much, and at a few min- 
utes before eleven he strolled out with a cigar as 
far as the pavilion at the end of his garden; he 
then heard the voices, the cry and the groan pre- 
viously described by him, and managed to hold the 
murderer down until the arrival of the constables. 

*^At this point the police proposed to call a 
witness, James Terry by name and a bookmaker 
by profession, who had been chiefly instrumental 
in identifying the deceased, a ^ pal ' of his. It 
was his evidence which first introduced that ele-* 
ment of sensation into the case which culminated 
in the wildly exciting arrest of a Duke's son upon 
a capital charge. 

" It appears that on the evening after the Ebor, 
Terry and Lavender were in the bar of the Black 
Swan Hotel having drinks. 

" * I had done pretty well over Peppercorn's 
fiasco,' he explained, * but poor old Lavender was 
very much down in the dumps; he had held only 
a few very small bets against the favourite, and 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 67 

the rest of the day had been a poor one with him. 
I asked him if he had any bets with the owner of 
Peppercorn, and he told me that he only held one 
for less than £500. 

*^ * I laughed and said that if he held one for 
£5000 it would make no difference, as from what 
I had heard from the other fellows, Lord Arthur 
Skelmerton must be about stumped. Lavender 
seemed terribly put out at this, and swore he would 
get that £500 out of Lord Arthur, if no one else 
got another penny from him. 

" * It's the only money I've made to-day,' he 
says to me. * I mean to get it/ 
You won't,' I says. 
I will,' he says. 

You will have to look pretty sharp about it 
then/ I says, * for every one will be wanting to get 
something, and first come first served.' 

" * Oh I He'll serve me right enough, never 
you mind ! ' says Lavender to me with a laugh. 
*If he don't pay up willingly, I've got that in 
my pocktt which will make him sit up and open 
my lady's eyes and Sir John Etty's too about their 
precious noble lord.' 

"*Then he seemed to think he had gone too 
far, and wouldn't say anything more to me about 
that affair. I saw him on the course the next day. 
I asked him if he had got his £500. He said: 
** No, but I shall get it to-day." ' 

"Lord Arthur Skelmerton, after having given 






68 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

his own evidence, had left the court; it was there- 
fore impossible to know how he would take this 
account, which threw so serious a light upon an 
association with the dead man, of which he him- 
self had said nothing. 

" Nothing could shake James Terry's account 
of the facts he had placed before the jury, and 
when the police informed the coroner that they 
proposed to place George Higgins himself in the 
witness box, as his evidence would prove, as it 
were, a complement and corollary of that of 
Terry, the jury very eagerly assented. 

" If James Terry, the bookmaker, loud, florid, 
\nilgar, was an unprepossessing individual, cer- 
tainly George Higgins, who was still under the 
accusation of murder, was ten thousand times 
more so. 

"None too clean, slouchy, obsequious yet in- 
solent, he was the very personification of the cad 
who haunts the racecourse and who lives not so 
much by his own wits as by the lack of them in 
others. He described himself as a turf commis- 
sion agent, whatever that may be. 

"He stated that at about six o'clock on the 
Friday afternoon, when the racecourse was still 
full of people, all hurrying after the day's excite- 
ments, he himself happened to be standing close 
to the hedge which marks the boundary of Lord 
Arthur Skelmerton's grounds. There is a pavilion 
there at the end of the garden, he explained, on 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 69 

slighdy elevated ground, and he could hear and 
see a group of ladies and gendemen having tea. 
Some steps lead down a little to the left of the 
garden on to the course, and presently he noticed 
at the bottohi of these steps Lord Arthur Skel- 
merton and Charles Lavender standing talking to- 
jgether. He knew both gentlemen by sight, but 
he could not see them very well as they were both 
partly hidden by the hedge. He was quite sure 
that the gendemen had not seen him, and he 
could not help overhearing some of their conver- 
sation. 

" * That's my last word, Lavender/ Lord 
Arthur was saying very quietly. *I haven't got 
the money and I can't pay you now. You'll have 
to wait.' 

■ 

"*Wait? I can't wait,' said old Lavender in 
reply. * I've got my engagements to meet, same 
as you. Fm not going to risk being posted up as 
a defaulter while you hold £500 of my money. 
You'd better give it me now or ^ 

" But Lord Arthur interrupted him very quiedy, 
and said: 

Yes, my good man . . . or ? ' 
Or I'll let Sir John have a good look at 
that Htde bill I had of yours a couple of years 
ago. If you'll remember, my lord, it has got at 
the bottom of it Sir John's signature in your 
handwriting. Perhaps Sir John, or perhaps my 
lady, would pay me something for that little bill. 



Ci I 

ii I 



70 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

If not, the police can have a squint at It. I've 
held my tongue long enough, and ' 

***Look here, Lavender,' said Lord Arthur, 
Mo you know what this little game of yours is 
called In law ? ' 

" * Yes, and I don*t care,* says Lavender. * If 
I don't have that £500 I am a ruined man. If 
you ruin me TU do for you, and we shall be quits* 
That's my last word.' 

^^He was talking very loudly, and I thought 
some of Lord Arthur's friends up in the pavilion 
must have heard. He thought so, too, I think, 
for he said quickly: 

" * If you don't hold your confounded tongue, 
m give you in charge for blackmail this instant.' 

" * You wouldn't dare,* says Lavender, and he 
began to laugh. But just then a lady from the 
top of the steps said : ^ Your tea is getting cold,' 
and Lord Arthur turned to go ; but just before he 
went Lavender says to him : * I'll come back to- 
night. You'll have the money then.* 

^'George Higglns, it appears, after he had 
heard this interesting conversation, pondered as to 
whether he could not turn what he knew into some 
sort of profit. Being a gentleman who lives en- 
tirely by his wits, this type of knowledge forms 
his chief source of Income. As a preliminary to 
future moves, he decided not to lose sight of 
Lavender for the rest of the day. 

^^ ' Lavender went and had dinner at the Black 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 71 

Swan,' explained Mr. George Higgins, *and I, 
after I had had a bite myself, waited outside till I 
saw him come out. At about ten o'clock I was re- 
warded for my trouble. He told the hall porter 
to get him a fly and he jumped into it. I could 
not hear what direction he gave the driver, but 
the fly certainly drove off towards the racecourse. 

" * Now, I was interested in this little affair,' 
continued the witness, * and I couldn't afford a 
fly. I started to run. Of course, I couldn't keep 
up with it, but I thought I knew which way my 
gentleman had gone. I made straight for the 
racecourse, and for the hedge at the bottom of 
Lord Arthur Skelmerton's grounds. 

" * It was rather a dark night and there was 
a slight drizzle. I couldn't see more than about 
a hundred yards before me. AH at once it seemed 
to me as if I heard Lavender's voice talking 
loudly in the distance. I hurried forward, and 
suddenly saw a group of two figures — ^mere blurs 
in the darkness^— -for one instant, at a distance of 
about fifty yards from where I was. 

" * The next moment one figure had fallen for- 
ward and the other had disappeared. I ran to 
the spot, only to find the body of the murdered 
man lying on the ground. I stooped to see if I 
could be of any use to him, and immediately I was 
collared from behind by Lord Arthur himself.' 

" You may imagine," said the man in the cor- 
ner, " how keen was the excitement of that moment 



72 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

in court. Coroner and jury alike literally hung 
breathless on every word that shabby, vulgar in- 
dividual uttered. You see, by itself his evidence 
would have been worth very little, but coming on 
the top of that given by James Terry, its signifi- 
cance — ^more, its truth — ^had become glaringly ap- 
parent. Closely cross-examined, he adhered 
strictly to his statement; and having finished his 
evidence, George Higgins remained in charge of 
the constables, and the next witness of importance 
was called up. 

" This was Mr. Chipps, the senior footman in 
the employment of Lord Arthur Skelmerton. He 
deposed that about 10.30 on the Friday evening 
a * party ' drove up to * The Elms ' in a fly, and 
asked to see Lord Arthur. On being told that his 
lordship had company he seemed terribly put out. 

" * I basked the party to give me 'is card,' con- 
tinued Mr. Chipps, *as I didn't know, perhaps, 
that 'is lordship might wish to see 'im, but I kept 
'im standing at the 'all door, as I didn't alto- 
gether like his looks. I took the card in. His 
lordship and the gentlemen was playin' cards in 
the smoking-room, and as soon as I could do so 
without disturbing 'is lordship, I give 'im the 
party's card.' 

"'What name was there on the card?' here 
interrupted the coroner. 

" * I could not say now, sir,' replied Mr. Chipps; 
* I don't really remember. It was a name I had 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 73 

never seen before. But I see so many visiting 
cards one way and the other in 'is lordship's *all 
that I can't remember all the names.' 

" * Then, after a few minutes' waiting, you gave 
his lordship the card ? What happened then ? * 

" * 'Is lordship didn't seem at all pleased,* said 
Mr. Chipps with much guarded dignity; *but 
finally he said: "Show him into the library, 
Chipps, I'll see him," and he got up from the 
card table, saying to the gentlemen: "Go on 
without me ; I'll be back in a minute or two." 

" * I was about to open the door for 'is lord- 
ship when my lady came into the room, and then 
'is lordship suddenly changed 'is mind like, and 
said to me: "Tell that man I'm busy and can't 
see him," and 'e sat down again at the card 
table. I went back to the 'all, and told the party 
'is lordship wouldn't see 'im. 'E said : " Oh 1 
it doesn't matter," and went away quite quiet like.' 

" * Do you recollect at all at what time that 
was? ' asked one of the jury. 
' " * Yes, sir, while I was waiting to speak to 'is 
lordship I looked at the clock, sir; it was twenty 
past ten, sir.' 

" There was one more significant fact in con- 
nection with the case, which tended still more to 
excite the curiosity of the public at the time, and 
still further to bewilder the police later on, and 
that fact was mentioned by Chipps in his evidence. 
The knife, namely, with which Charles Lavender 



74 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

had been stabbed, and which, remember, had been 
left in the wound, was now produced in court. 
After a little hesitation Chipps identified it as the 
prc^erty of his master, Lord Arthur Skelmerton. 

" Can you wonder, then, that the jury abso- 
lutely refused to bring in a verdict against George 
Higgins ? There was really, beyond Lord Arthur 
Skelmerton's testimony, not one particle of evi- 
dence against him, whilst, as the day wore on and 
witness after witness was called up, suspicion rip* 
ened in the minds of all those present that the 
murderer could be no other than Lord Arthur 
Skelmerton himself. 

" The knife was, of course, the strongest piece 
of circumstantial evidence, and no doubt the 
police hoped to collect a great deal more now 
that they held a clue in their hands. Directly 
after the verdict, therefore, which was guardedly 
directed against some person unknown, the police 
obtained a warrant and later on arrested Lord 
Arthur in his own house. 

"The sensation, of course, ^s tremendous. 
Hours before he was brought up before the 
magistrate the approach to the court was 
thronged. His friends, mostly ladies, were all 
eager, you see, to watch the dashing society man 
in so terrible a position. There was universal 
sympathy for Lady Arthur, who was in a very 
precarious state of health. Her worship of her 
worthless husband was well known ; small wonder 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 75 

that his final and awful misdeed had practically 
broken her heart. The latest bulletin issued just 
after his arrest stated that her ladyship was not 
expected to live. She was then in a comatose con- 
dition, and all hope had perforce to be abandoned. 

"At last the prisoner was brought in. He 
looked very pale, perhaps, but otherwise kept up 
the bearing of a high-bred gentleman. He was 
accompanied by his solicitor, Sir Marmaduke 
IngersoU, who was evidently talking to him in 
quiet, reassuring tones. 

" Mr. Buchanan prosecuted for the Treasury, 
and certainly his indictment was terrific. Accord- 
ing to him but one decision could be arrived at, 
namely, that the accused in the dock had, in a 
moment of passion, and perhaps of fear, killed 
the blackmailer who threatened him with dis- 
closures which might for ever have ruined him 
socially, and, having committed the deed and fear- 
ing its consequences, probably realising that the 
patrolling constables might catch sight of his re- 
treating figure, he had availed himself of George 
Higgins's presence on the spot to loudly accuse 
him of the murder. 

"Having concluded his able speech, Mr. 
Buchanan called his witnesses, and the evidence, 
which on second hearing seemed more damning 
than ever, was all gone through again. 

" Sir Marmaduke had no question to ask of the 
witnesses for the prosecution; he stared at them 



76 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

placidly through his gold-rimmed spectacles. 
Then he was ready to call his own for the de- 
fence. Colonel Mcintosh, R. A., was the first. 
He was present at the bachelors' party given by 
Lord Arthur the night of the murder. His evi- 
dence tended at first to corroborate that of Chipps, 
the footman, with regard to Lord Arthur's orders 
to show the visitor into the library, and his coun- 
ter-order as soon as his wife came into the room. 

"'Did you not think it strange, Colonel?' 
asked Mr. Buchanan, * that Lord Arthur should 
so suddenly have changed his mind about seeing 
his visitor?' 

" * Well, not exactly strange,' said the Colonel, 
a fine, manly, soldierly figure who looked curiously 
out of his element in the witness-box. * I don't 
think that it is a very rare occurrence for racing 
men to have certain acquaintances whom they 
would not wish their wives to know anything 
about ? ' 

" ' Then it did not strike you that Lord Arthur 
Skelmerton had some reason for not wishing his 
wife to know of that particular visitor's presence 
in his house ? ' 

** * I don't think that I gave the matter the 
slightest serious consideration,' was the Colonel's 
guarded reply. 

" Mr. Buchanan did not press the point, and 
allowed the witness to conclude his statements. 
I had finished my turn at bridge,' he said, 



cc < 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 77 

* and went out into the garden to smoke a cigar. 
Lord Arthur Skelmerton joined me a few minutes 
later, and we were sitting in the pavilion when 
I heard a loud and, as I thought, threatening 
voice from the other side of the hedge. 

" * I did not catch the words, but Lord Arthur 
said to me: "There seems to be a row down 
there. I'll go and have a look and see what it 
is." I tried to dissuade him, and certainly made 
no attempt to follow him, but not more than half 
a minute could have elapsed before I heard a cry 
and a groan, then Lord Arthur's footsteps hurry- 
ing down the wooden stairs which lead on to the 
racecourse.' 

"You may imagine," said the man in the cor- 
ner, "what severe cross-examination the gallant 
Colonel had to undergo in order that his assertions 
might in some way be shaken by the prosecution, 
but with military precision and frigid calm he re- 
peated his important statements amidst a general 
silence, through which you could have heard the 
proverbial pin. 

" He had heard the threatening voice while 
sitting with Lord Arthur Skelmerton; then came 
the cry and groan, and, after that, Lord Arthur's 
steps down the stairs. He himself thought of 
following to see what had happened, but it was a 
very dark night and he did not know the grounds 
very well. While trying to find his way to the 
garden steps he heard Lord Arthur's cry for help, 



78 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

the tramp of the patrolling constables' horses, and 
subsequently the whole scene between Lord Ar- 
thur, the man Higgins, and the constables. When 
he finally found his way to the stairs. Lord Arthur 
was returning in order to send a groom for police 
assistance. 

"The witness stuck to his points as he had to 
his guns at Beckf ontein a year ago ; nothing could 
shake him, and Sir Marmaduke looked triumph- 
antly across at his opposing colleague. 

"With the gallant Colonel's statements the 
edifice of the prosecution certainly began to col- 
lapse. You see, there was not a particle of evi- 
dence to show that the accused had met and 
spoken to the deceased after the latter's visit at 
the front door of *The Elms.' He told Chipps 
that he wouldn't see the visitor, and Chipps went 
into the hall directly and showed Lavender out 
the way he came. No assignation could have been 
made, no hint could have been given by the mur- 
dered man to Lord Arthur that he would go round 
to the back entrance and wished to see him there. 

"Two other guests of Lord Arthur's swore 
positively that after Chipps had announced the 
visitor, their host stayed at the card-table until a 
quarter to eleven, when evidendy he went out to 
join Colonel Mcintosh in the garden. Sir Mar- 
maduke's speech was clever in the extreme. Bit 
by bit he demolished that tower of strength, the 
case against the accused, basing his defence en- 



J 



THE CAPITAL CHARGE 79 

tirely upon the evidence of Lord Arthur Skelmer- 
ton's guests that night. 

"Until 10.45 Lord Arthur was playing cards; 
a quarter of an hour later the police were on the 
scene, and the murder had been committed. In 
the meanwhile Colonel Mcintosh's evidence 
proved conclusively that the accused had been sit- 
ting with him, smoking a cigar. It was obvious, 
therefore, clear as daylight, concluded the great 
lawyer, that his client was entitled to a fuU dis- 
charge; nay, more, he thought that the police 
should have been more careful before they har- 
rowed up public feeling by arresting a high-born 
gentleman on such insufficient evidence as they had 
brought forward. 

" The question of the Tmife remained certainly, 
but Sir Marmaduke passed over it with guarded 
eloquence, placing that strange question in the 
category of those inexplicable coincidents which 
tend to puzzle the ablest detectives, and cause 
them to commit such unpardonable blunders as 
the present one had been. After all, the footman 
may have been mistaken. The pattern of that 
knife was not an exclusive one, and he, on behalf 
of his client, flatly denied that it had ever belonged 
to him. 

" Well,'' continued the man in the corner, with 
the chuckle peculiar to him in moments of excite- 
ment, " the noble prisoner was discharged. Per- 
haps it would be invidious to say that he left the 



8o THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

court without a stain on his character, for I dare- 
say you know from experience that the crime 
known as the York Mystery has never been satis- 
factorily cleared up. 

" Many people shook their heads dubiously 
when they remembered that, after all, Charles 
Lavender was killed with a knife which one wit- 
ness had sworn belonged to Lord Arthur; others, 
again, reverted to the original theory that George 
Higgins was the murderer, that he and James 
Terry had concocted the story of Lavender's at- 
tempt at blackmail on Lord Arthur, and that the 
murder had been committed for the sole purpose 
of robbery. 

*' Be that as it may, the police have not so far 
been able to collect sufficient evidence against Hig- 
gins or Terry, and the crime has been classed by 
press and public alike in the category of so-called 
impenetrable mysteries." 



CHAPTER IX 

A BROKEN-HEARTED WOMAN 

The man in the corner called for another glass of 
milk, and drank it down slowly before he resumed : 

"Now Lord Arthur lives mostly abroad," he 
said. "His poor, suffering wife died the day 
after he was liberated by the magistrate. She 
never recovered consciousness even sufficiently to 
hear the joyful news that the man she loved so 
well was innocent after all. 

" Mystery I *' he added as if in answer to Polly's 
own thoughts. "The murder of that man was 
never a mystery to me. I cannot understand how 
the police could have been so blind when every 
one of the witnesses, both for the prosecution and 
defence, practically pointed all the time to the one 
guilty person. What do you think of it all your- 
self?'* 

"I think the whole case so bewildering,'* she 
replied, " that I do not see one single clear point 
in it." 

" You don't? " he said excitedly, while the bony 
fingers fidgeted again with that inevitable bit of 
string. "You don't see that there is one point 
clear which to me was the key of the whole thing. 

"Lavender was murdered, wasn't he? Lord 

8i 



82 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Arthur did not kill him. He had, at least, in 
Colonel Mcintosh an unimpeachable witness to 
prove that he could not have conmiitted that 
murder — ^and yet," he added with slow, excited 
emphasis, marking each sentence ^th a knot, 
*' and yet he deliberately tries to throw the guilt 
upon a man who obviously was also innocent 
Now why ? " 

** He may have thought him guilty." 
" Or wished to shield or cover die retreat of 
one he knew to he guilty.^^ 
" I don't understand." 

** Think of someone," he said exdtedly, " some- 
one whose desire would be as great as that of 
Lord Arthur to silence a scandal round that gen- 
tleman's name. Someone who, unknown perhaps 
to Lord Arthur, had overheard the same conver- 
sation which George Higgins related to the police 
and the magistrate, someone who, whilst Chipps 
was taking Lavender's card in to his master had a 
few minutes' time wherein to make an assignation 
with Lavender, promising him money, no doubt, 
in exchange for the compromising bills." 

** Surely you don't mean " gasped Polly, 

" Point number one," he interrupted quietly, 
" utterly missed by the police. George Higgins in 
his deposition stated that at the most animated 
stage of Lavender's conversation with Lord Ar- 
thur, and when the bookmaker's tone of voice be- 
came loud and threatening, a voice from the top 



A BROKEN-HEARTED WOMAN 83 



of the steps interrupted that conversation, saying : 
* Your tea is getting cold.' '* 

**Yes — ^but " she argued. 

" Wait a moment, for there is point number two, 
That voice was a lady's voice. Now, I did exactly 
what the police should have done, but did not do. 
I went to have a look from the racecourse side at 
those garden steps which to my mind are such 
important factors in the discovery of this crime. 
I found only about a dozen rather low steps ; any- 
one standing on the top must have heard every 
word Charles Lavender uttered the moment he 
raised his voice." 

" Even then " 

" Very well, you grant that," he said excitedly. 
"Then there was the great, the all-important 
point which, oddly enough, the prosecution never 
for a moment took into consideration. When 
Chipps, the footman, first told Lavender that Lord 
Arthur could not see him the bookmaker was ter- 
ribly put out; Chipps then goes to speak to his 
master; a few minutes elapse, and when the foot- 
man once again tells Lavender that his lordship 
won't see him, the latter says *Very well,* and 
seems to treat the matter with complete indiffer- 
ence. 

" Obviously, therefore, something must have 
happened in between to alter the bookmaker's 
frame of mind. Well! What had happened? 
Think over all the evidence, and you will see that 



84 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

one thing only had occurred in the interval, 
namely, Lady Arthur's advent into the room. 

"In order to go into the smoking-room she 
must have crossed the hall; she must have seen 
Lavender. In that brief interval she must have 
realised that the man was persistent, and therefore 
a living danger to her husband. Remember, 
women have done strange things; they are a far 
greater puzzle to the student of human nature than 
the sterner, less complex sex has ever been. As I 
argued before — as the police should have argued 
all along — ^why did Lord Arthur deliberately ac- 
cuse an innocent man of murder if not to shield 
the guilty one ? 

" Remember, Lady Arthur may have been dis- 
covered; the man, George Higgins, may have 
caught sight of her before she had time to make 
good her retreat. His attention, as well as that 
of the constables, had to be divert^^d. Lord Ar- 
thur acted on the blind impulse of saving his wife 
at any cost." 

'* She may have been met by Colonel Mc- 
intosh," argued Polly. 

"Perhaps she was," he said. "Who knows? 
The gallant colonel had to swear to his friend's 
innocence. He could do that in all conscience — 
after that his duty was accomplished. No inno- 
cent man was suffering for the guilty. The knife 
which had belonged to Lord Arthur would always 
save George Higgins. For a time it had pointed 



A BROKEN-HEARTED WOMAN 85 

to the husband; fortunately never to the wife. 
Poor thing, she died probably of a broken heart, 
but women when they love, think only of one ob- 
ject on earth — the one who is beloved. 

"To me the whole thing was clear from the 
very first. When I read the account of the mur- 
der — the knife! stabbing! — ^bah! Don't I know 
enough of English crime not to be certain at once 
that no Englishman, be he ruffian from the gutter 
or be he Duke's son, ever stabs his victim in the 
back. Italians, French, Spaniards do it, if you 
will, and women of most nations. An English- 
man's instinct is to strike and not to stab. George 
Higgins or Lord Arthur Skelmerton would have 
knocked their victim down ; the woman only would 
lie in wait till the enemy's back was turned. She 
knows her weakness, and she does not mean to 
miss. 

** Think it over. There is not one flaw in my 
argument, but the police never thought the matter 
out — perhaps in this case it was as well." 

He had gone and left Miss Polly Burton still 
staring at the photograph of a pretty, gentle-look- 
ing woman, with a decided wilful curve round the 
mouth, and a strange unaccountable look in the 
large pathetic eyes; and the little journalist felt 
quite thankful that in this case the murder of 
Charles Lavender the bookmaker— cowardly, 
wicked as it was — ^had remained a mystery to the 
police and the public. 



CHAPTER X 

THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 

RAILWAY 

It was all very well for Mr. Richard Frobishcr 
(of the London Mail) to cut up rough about it. 
Polly did not altogether blame him. 

She liked him all the better for that frank out- 
burst of manlike ill-temper which, after all said 
and done, was only a very flattering form of 
masculine jealousy. 

Moreover, PoUy distinctly felt guilty about the 
whole thing. She had promised to meet Dickie — 
that is Mr. Richard Frobisher — at two o'clock 
sharp outside the Palace Theatre, because she 
wanted to go to a Maud Allan matinee, and be- 
cause he naturally wished to go with her. 

But at two o'clock sharp she was still in Nor- 
folk Street, Strand, inside an A. B. C. shop, sip- 
ping cold coffee opposite a grotesque old man who 
was fiddling with a bit of string. 

How could she be expected to remember Maud 
Allan or the Palace Theatre, or Dickie himself 
for a matter of that? The man in the corner 
had begun to talk of that mysterious death on 
the underground railway, and Polly had lost 
count of time, of place, and circumstance. 

86 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 87 

She had gone to lunch quite early, for she was 
looking forward to the matinee at the Palace. 

The old scarecrow was sitting in his accustomed 
place when she came into the A. B. C. shop, but 
he had made no remark all the time that the young 
girl was munching her scone and butter. She was 
just busy thinking how rude he was not even to 
have said " Good morning," when an abrupt re- 
mark from him caused her to look up. 

** Will you be good enough," he said suddenly, 
"to give me a description of the man who sat 
next to you just now, while you were having your 
cup of coffee and scone." 

Involuntarily Polly turned her head towards the 
distant door, through which a man in a light over- 
coat was even now quickly passing. That man 
had certainly sat at the next table to hers, when 
she first sat down to her coif ee and scone : he had 
finished his luncheon — ^whatever it was — a moment 
ago, had paid at the desk and gone out. The in- 
cident did not appear to Polly as being of the 
slightest consequence. 

Therefore she did not reply to the rude old man, 
but shrugged her shoulders, and called to the wait- 
ress to bring her bill. 

** Do you know if he was tall or short, dark or 
fair? " continued the man in the corner, seemingly 
not the least disconcerted by the jDOung girPs in- 
difference. " Can you tell me at all what he was 
like?" 



88 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Of course I can/' rejoined Polly impatiently, 
"but I don't see that my description of one of 
the customers of an A. B. C. shop can have the 
slightest importance." 

He was silent for a minute, while his nervous 
fingers fumbled about in his capacious pockets in 
search of the inevitable piece of string. When 
he had found this necessary " adjunct to thought," 
he viewed the young girl again through his half- 
closed lids, and added maliciously : 

"But supposing it were of paramount impor- 
tance that you should give an accurate description 
of a man who sat next to you for half an hour to- 
day, how would you proceed ? " 

" I should say that he was of medium 
height " 

" Five foot eight, nine, or ten?" he interrupted 
quietly. 

"How can one tell to an inch or two?" re- 
joined Polly crossly. " He was between colours." 

"What's that?" he inquired blandly. 

" Neither fair nor dark — his nose ^" 

"Well, what was his nose like? Will you 
sketch it?" 

"I am not an artist. His nose was fairly 
straight — ^his eyes ^" 

"Were neither dark nor light — ^his hair had 
the same striking peculiarity — he was neither 
short nor tall — ^his nose was neither aquiline nor 
snub — \ — ^" he recapitulated sarcastically. 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 89 

"No/* she retorted; "he was just ordinary- 
looking." 

" Would you know him again — ^say to-morrow, 
and among a number of other men who were 
* neither tall nor short, dark nor fair, aquiline nor 
snub-nosed,' etc. ? " 

" I don't know — I might — ^he was certainly 
not striking enough to be specially remem- 
bered." 

" Exactly," he said, while he leant forward ex- 
citedly, for all the world like a Jack-in-the-box let 
loose. *' Precisely; and you are a journalist— call 
yourself one, at least — ^and it should be part of 
your business to notice and describe people. I 
don't mean only the wonderful personage with the 
clear Saxon features, the fine blue eyes, the noble 
brow and classic face, but the ordinary person — 
the person who represents ninety out of every 
hundred of his own kind — the average English- 
man, say, of the middle classes, who is neither very 
tall nor very short, who wears a moustache which 
is neither fair nor dark, but which masks his 
mouth, and a top hat which hides the shape of his 
head and brow, a man, in fact, who dresses like 
hundreds of his fellow-creatures, moves like them, 
speaks like them, has no peculiarity. 

" Try to describe him, to recognise him, say a 
week hence, among his other eighty-nine doubles; 
worse still, to swear his life away, if he happened 
to be implicated in some crime, wherein your 



90 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

recognition of him would place the halter round 
his neck. 

" Try that, I say, and having utterly failed you 
will more readily understand how one of the great- 
est scoundrels unhung is still at large, and why 
the mystery on the Underground Railway was 
never cleared up. 

*^ I think it was the only time in my life that 
I was seriously tempted to give the police the 
benefit of my own views upon the matter. You 
see, though I admire the brute for his cleverness, 
I did not see that his being unpunished could pos- 
sibly benefit anyone. 

'* In these days of tubes and motor traction of 
all kinds the old-fashioned 'best, cheapest, and 
quickest route to City and West End' is often 
deserted, and the good old Metropolitan Railway 
carriages cannot at any time be said to be over- 
crowded. Anyway, when that particular train 
steamed into Aldgate at about 4 p. m. on March 
1 8 th last, the first-class carriages were all but 
empty. 

"The guard marched up and down the plat- 
form looking into all the carriages to see if any- 
one had left a halfpenny evening paper behind 
for him, and opening the door of one of the first- 
class compartments, he noticed a lady sitting in the 
further corner, with her head turned away towards 
the window, evidently oblivious of the fact that 
on this line Aldgate is the terminal station. 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 91 

" 'Where arc you for, lady? ' he said. 

*^ The lady did not move, and the guard stepped 
into the carriage, thinking that perhaps the lady 
was asleep. He touched her arm lightly and 
looked into her face. In his own poetic language, 
he was 'struck all of a 'eap.' In the glassy 
eyes, the ashen colour of the cheeks, the rigidity 
of the head, there was the unmistakable look of 
death. 

'' Hastily the guard, having carefully locked the 
carriage door, summoned a couple of porters, and 
sent one of them off to the police-station, and the 
other in search of the station-master. 

'' Fortunately at this time of day the up plat- 
form is not very crowded, all the traffic tending 
westward in the afternoon. It was only when an 
inspector and two police constables, accompanied 
by a detective in plain clothes and a medical offi- 
cer, appeared upon the scene, and stood round a 
first-class railway compartment, that a few idlers 
realised that something unusual had occurred, and 
crowded round, eager and curious. 

"Thus it 'was that the later editions of the 
evening papers, under the sensational heading, 
* Mysterious .Suicide on the Underground Rail- 
way,' had already an account of the extraordi- 
nary event. The medical officer had very soon 
come to the decision that the guard had not been 
mistaken, and that life was indeed extinct. 

"The lady was young, and must have been 



92 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

very pretty before the look of fright and horror 
had so terribly distorted her features. She was 
very elegantly dressed, and the more frivolous 
papers were able to give their feminine readers 
a detailed account of the unfortunate woman's 
gown, her shoes, hat, and gloves. 

*^ It appears that one of the latter, the one on 
the right hand, was partly off, leaving the thumb 
and wrist bare. That hand held a small satchel, 
which the police opened, with a view to the pos- 
sible identification of the deceased, but which was 
found to contain only a little loose silver, some 
smelling salts, and a small empty bottle, which 
was handed over to the medical officer for pur- 
poses of analysis. 

^^ It was the presence of that small bottle which 
had caused the report to circulate freely that the 
mysterious case on the Underground Railway was 
one of suicide. Certain it was that neither about 
the lady's person, nor in the appearance of the 
railway carriage, was there the slightest sign of 
struggle or even of resistance. Only the look in the 
poor woman's eyes spoke of sudden terror, of the 
rapid vision of an unexpected and violent death, 
which probably only lasted an infinitesimal frac- 
tion of a second, but which had left its indelible 
mark upon the face, otherwise so placid and so 
still. 

" The body of the deceased was conveyed to the 
mortuary. So far, of course, not a soul had been 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 93 

able to identify her, or to throw the slightest light 
upon the mystery which hung around her death. 

"Against that, quite a crowd of idlers— 
genuinely interested or not— obtained admission 
to view the body, on the pretext of having lost 
or mislaid a relative or a friend. At about 8.30 
p. m. a young man, very well dressed, drove up to 
the station In a hansom, and sent in his card to the 
superintendent. It was Mr. Hazeldene, shipping 
agent, of 11 Crown Lane, E. C, and No. 19 
Addison Row, Kensington. 

" The young man looked in a pitiable state of 
mental distress; his hand clutched nervously a 
copy of the 5/. James Gazette, which contained the 
fatal news. He said very little to the superin- 
tendent except that a person who was very dear to 
him had not returned home that evening. 

*^He had not felt really anxious until half an 
hour ago, when suddenly he thought of looking 
at his paper. The description of the deceased 
lady, though vague, had terribly alarmed him. 
He had jumped into a hansom, and now begged 
permission to view the body, in order that his 
worst fears might be allayed. 

"You know what followed, of course," con- 
tinued the man in the comer, " the grief of the 
young man was truly pitiable. In the woman 
lying there in a public mortuary before him, Mr. 
Hazeldene had recognised his wife. 

^^I am waxing melodramatic," said the man 



94 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

in the corner, who looked up at Polly with a 
mild and gende smile, while his nervous fingers 
vainly endeavoured to add another knot on the 
scrappy bit of string with which he was contin- 
ually playing, *^ and I fear that the whole story 
savours of the penny novelette, but you must ad-* 
mit, and no doubt you remember, that it was an 
intensely pathetic and truly dramatic moment. 

**Tlie unfortunate young husband of the de- 
ceased lady was not much worried with questions 
that night. As a matter of fact, he was not in 
a fit condition to make any coherent statement. 
It was at the coroner's inquest on the following 
day that certain facts came to light, which, for 
the time being, seemed to clear up the mystery sur- 
rounding Mrs. Hazeldene's death, only to plunge 
that same mystery, later on, into denser gloom 
than before. 

** The first witness at the inquest was, of course, 
Mr. Hazddene himself. I think everyone's sym- 
pathy went out to the young man as he stood 
before the coroner and tried to throw what light 
he could upon the mystery. He was well dressed, 
as he had been the day before, but he looked 
terribly ill and worried, and no doubt the fact 
that he had not shaved gave his face a careworn 
and neglected air. 

" It appears that he and the deceased had been 
married some she years or so, and that they had 
always been happy in their married life. They 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 95 

had no children. Mrs. Hazeldene seemed to en* 
joy the best of health till lately, when she had 
had a slight attack of influenza, in which Dr. 
Arthur Jones had attended her. The doctor was 
present at this moment, and would no doubt ex- 
plain to the coroner and the jury whether he 
thought that Mrs. Hazeldene had the slightest 
tendency to heart disease, which might have had a 
sudden and fatal ending. 

"The coroner was, of course, very considerate 
to the bereaved husband. He tried by circum- 
locution to get at the point he wanted, namely, 
Mrs. Hazeldene's mental condition lately. Mr. 
Hazeldene seemed loath to talk about this. No 
doubt he had been warned as to the existence of 
the small bottle found in his wife's satchel. 

** * It certainly did seem to me at times,' he at 
last reluctantly admitted, *that my wife did not 
seem quite herself. She used to be very gay and 
bright, and lately I often saw her in the evening, 
sitting as if brooding over some matters which 
evidently she did not care to communicate to me.' 

"Still the coroner insisted, and suggested the 
small bottle. 

" * I know, I know,* replied the young man, 
with a short, heavy figh. *You mean — ^the 
question of suicide — ^I cannot understand it at all 
— ^it seems so sudden and so terrible — ^she certainly 
had seemed listless and troubled lately — ^but only 
at times — and yesterday morning, when I went to 



96 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

business, she appeared quite herself again, and I 
suggested that we should go to the opera in the 
evening. She was delighted, I know, and told 
me she would do some shopping, and pay a few 
calls in the afternoon.' 

** * Do you know at all where she intended 
to go when she got into the Underground Rail- 
way?' 

" * Well, not with certainty. You see, she may 
have meant to get out at Baker Street, and go 
down to Bond Street to do her shopping. Then, 
again, she sometimes goes to a shop in St. Paul's 
Churchyard, in which case she would take a ticket 
to Aldersgate Street ; but I cannot say.' 

" * Now, Mr. Hazeldene,' said the coroner at 
last very kindly, ' will you try to tell me if there 
was anything in Mrs. Hazeldene's life which you 
know of, and which might in some measure ex- 
plain the cause of the distressed state of mind, 
which you yourself had noticed? Did there exist 
any financial difficulty which might have preyed 
upon Mrs. Hazeldene's mind; was there any 
friend — to whose intercourse with Mrs. Hazel- 
dene — ^you— er — at any time took exception ? In 
fact,' added the coroner, as if thankful that he 
had got over an unpleasant moment, *can you 
give me the slightest indication which would tend 
to confirm the suspicion that the unfortunate lady, 
in a moment of mental anxiety or derangement, 
may have wished to take her own life? * 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 97 

"There was silence in the court for a few 
moments. Mr. Hazeldene seemed to everyone 
there present to be labouring under some terrible 
moral doubt. He looked very pale and wretched, 
and twice attempted to speak before he at last 
said in scarcely audible tones : 

" * No ; there were no financial difficulties of 
any sort. My wife had an independent fortune 
of her own — she had no extravagant tastes * 

" * Nor any friend you at any time objected to? * 
insisted the coroner. 

" * Nor any friend, I — at any time objected to,* 
stammered the unfortunate young man, evidently 
speaking with an effort. 

" I was present at the inquest," resumed the 
man in the corner, after he had drunk a glass of 
milk and ordered another, " and I can assure you 
that the most obtuse person there plainly realised 
that Mr. Hazeldene was telling a lie. It was 
pretty plain to the meanest intelligence that the 
unfortunate lady had not fallen into a state of 
morbid dejection for nothing, and that perhaps 
there existed a third person who could throw more 
light on her strange and sudden death than the 
unhappy, bereaved young widower. 

"That the death was more mysterious even 
than it had at first appeared became very soon 
apparent. You read the case at the time, no 
doubt, and must remember the excitement in the 
public mind caused by the evidence of the two 



98 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

doctors. Dr. Arthur Jones, the lady's usual medi- 
cal man, who had attended her in a last very slight 
Illness, and who had seen her in a professional 
capacity fairly recently, declared most emphatically 
that Mrs. ^azeldene suffered from no organic 
complaint which could possibly have been the 
cause of sudden death. Moreover, he had as- 
sisted Mr. Andrew Thornton, the district medical 
officer, in making a post-mortem examination, and 
together they had come to the conclusion that 
death was due to the action of prussic acid, which 
had caused instantaneous failure of the heart, but 
how the drug had been administered neither he 
nor his colleague were at present able to state. 

" * Do I understand, then. Dr. Jones, that the 
deceased died, poisoned with prussic acid?' 

** * Such is my opinion,' replied the doctor. 

^* ^ Did the botde found In her satchel contain 
pmssic acid?' 

^*^It had contained some at one time, cer- 
tainly.' 

***In your opinion, then, the lady caused her 
own death by taking a dose of that drug ? ' 

** * Pardon me, I never suggested such a thing ; 
the lady died poisoned by the drug, but how the 
drug was administered we cannot say. By injec- 
tion of some sort, certainly. The drug certainly 
was not swallowed; there was not a vestige of it 
in the stomach.' 

*'*Yes,' added the doctor, in reply to another 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND 99 

question from the coroner, * death had probably 
followed the injection in this case almost im- 
mediately; say within a couple of minutes, or per- 
haps three. It was quite possible that the body 
would not have more than one quick and sudden 
convulsion, perhaps not that; death in such cases 
is absolutely sudden and crushing/ 

'^ I don't think that at the time anyone in the 
room realised how important the doctor's state- 
ment was, a statement which, by the way, was con- 
firmed in all its details by the district medical of- 
ficer, who had conducted the post-mortem. Mrs. 
Hazeldene had died suddenly from an injection 
of prussic acid, administered no one knew how or 
when. She had been travelling in a first-dass 
railway carriage in a busy time of the day. That 
young and elegant woman must have had singular 
nerve and coolness to go through the process of 
a self-inflicted injection of a deadly poison in 
the presence of perhaps two or three other per- 
sons. 

^^ Mind you, when I say that no one there 
realised the importance of the doctor's statement 
at that moment, I am wrong; there were three 
persons who fully understood at once the gravity 
of the situation, and the astounding development 
which the case was beginning to assume. 

" Of course, I should have put myself out of 
the question," added the weird old man, with that 
inimitable self-conceit peculiar to himself. " I 



loo THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

guessed then and there in a moment where the 
police were going wrong, and where they would 
go on going wrong until the mysterious death on 
the Underground Railway had sunk into oblivion, 
together with the other cases which they misman- 
age from time to time. 

"I said there were three persons who under- 
stood the gravity of the two doctors' statements 
— ^the other two were, firstly, the detective who 
had originally examined the railway carriage, a 
young man of energy and plenty of misguided in- 
telligence, the other was Mr. Hazeldene. 

"At this point the interesting element of the 
whole story was first introduced into the proceed- 
ings, and this was done through the humble chan- 
nel of Emma Funnel, Mrs. Hazeldene's maid, 
who, as far as was known then, was the last per- 
son who had seen the unfortunate lady alive and 
had spoken to her. 

" * Mrs. Hazeldene lunched at home,* explained 
Emma, who was shy, and spoke almost in a 
whisper; *she seemed well and cheerful. She 
went out at about half-past three, and told me she 
was going to Spence's, in St. Paul's Churchyard, 
to try on on her new tailor-made gown. Mrs. 
Hazeldene had meant to go there in the morning, 
but was prevented as Mr. Errington called.' 

" * Mr. Errington ? ' asked the coroner casually. 
• iWho is Mr. Errington ? * 



DEATH ON THE UNDERGROUND loi 

"But this Emma found difficult to explain. 
*Mr. Errington was — Mr. Errington, that's all.* 

" * Mr. Errington was a friend of the family. 
He lived in a flat in the Albert Mansions. He 
very often came to Addison Row, and generally 
stayed late.* 

" Pressed still further with questions, Emma at 
last stated that latterly Mrs. Hazeldene had been 
to the theatre several times with Mr. Errington, 
and that on those nights the master looked very 
gloomy, and was very cross. 

"Recalled, the young widower was strangely 
reticent. He gave forth his answers very grudg- 
ingly, and the coroner was evidently absolutely 
satisfied with himself at the marvellous way in 
which, after a quarter of an hour of firm yet very 
kind questionings, he had elicited from the witness 
what information he wanted. 

" Mr. Errington was a friend of his wife. He 
was a gentleman of means, and seemed to have 
a great deal of time at his command. He him- 
self did not particularly care about Mr. Errington, 
but he certainly had never made any observations 
to his wife on the subject. 

" * But who is Mr. Errington ? * repeated the 
coroner once more. * What does he do? What 
is his business or profession ? * 

** * He has no business or profession.* 

" * What is his occupation, then ? * 



1 



I02 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 



U I 



He has no special occupation. He has ample 
private means. But he has a great and very ab- 
sorbing hobby/ 

"•What is that?' 

'' * He spends all his time in chemical experi* 
ments, and is, I believe, as an amateur, a very dis* 
tingulshed toxicologlst.' '' 



CHAPTER XI 



MR. ERRINGTON 



** Did you ever see Mr. Errlngton, the gendeman 
so closely connected with the mysterious death on 
the Underground Railway?" asked the man in 
the corner as he placed one or two of his little 
snap-shot photos before Miss Polly Burton. 
" There he is, to the very life. Fairly good-look- 
ing, a pleasant face enough, but ordinary, abso- 
lutely ordinary. 

" It was this absence of any peculiarity which 
very nearly, but not quite, placed the halter round 
Mr. Errington's neck. But I am going too fast, 
and you will lose the thread. 

" The public, of course, never heard how it 
actually came about that Mr. Errington, the 
wealthy bachelor of Albert Mansions, of the Gros- 
venor, and other young dandies' clubs, one fine 
day found himself before the magistrates at Bow 
Street, charged with being concerned in the death 
of Mary Beatrice Hazeldene, late of No. 19 
Addison Row. 

" I can assure you both press and public were 
literally flabbergasted. You see, Mr. Errington 
was a well-known and very popular member of a 

103 



104 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

certain smart section of London society. He was 
a constant visitor at the opera, the racecourse, the 
Park, and the Carlton, he had a great many 
friends, and there was consequently quite a large 
attendance at the police court that morning. 

" What had transpired was this : 

" After the very scrappy bits of evidence which 
came to light at the inquest, two gentlemen be- 
thought themselves that perhaps they had some 
duty to perform toward the State and the public 
generally. Accordingly they had come forward, 
offering to throw what light they could upon 
the mysterious affair on the Underground Rail- 
way. 

"The police naturally felt that their informa- 
tion, such as it was, came rather late in the day, 
but as it proved of paramount importance, and 
the two gentlemen, moreover, were of undoubtedly 
good position in the world, they were thankful for 
what they could get, and acted accordingly; they 
accordingly brought Mr. Errington up before the 
magistrate on a charge of murder. 

" The accused looked pale and worried when I 
first caught sight of him in the court that day, 
which was not to be wondered at, considering the 
terrible position in which he found himself. 

" He had been arrested at Marseilles, where he 
was preparing to start for Colombo. 

"I don't think he realised how terrible his 



MR. ERRINGTON 105 

position really was until later in the proceedings, 
when all the evidence relating to the arrest had 
been heard, and Emma Funnel had repeated her 
statement as to Mr. Errington's call at 19, Addi- 
son Row, in the morning, and Mrs, Hazeldene 
starting off for St. Paul's Churchyard at 3.30 in 
the afternoon. 

" Mr. Hazeldene had nothing to add to the 
statements he had made at the coroner's inquest. 
He had last seen his wife alive on the morning 
of the fatal day. She had seemed very well and 
cheerful. I think everyone present understood 
that he was trying to say as little as possible that 
could in any way couple his deceased wife's name 
with that of the accused. 

"And yet, from the servant's evidence. It un- 
doubtedly leaked out that Mrs. Hazeldene, who 
was young, pretty, and evidently fond of admira- 
tion, had once or twice annoyed her husband by 
her somewhat open, yet perfecdy innocent, flirta- 
tion with Mr. Errington. 

" I think everyone was most agreeably im- 
pressed by the widower's moderate and dignified 
attitude. You will see his photo there, among 
this bundle. That is just how he appeared in 
court. In deep black, of course, but without any 
sign of ostentation in his mourning. He had 
allowed his beard to grow lately, and wore it 
closely cut in a point. 



io6 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"After his evidence, the sensation of the day 
occurred. A tall, dark-haired man, with the word 
*city* written metaphorically all over him, had 
kissed the book, and was waiting to tell the truth, 
and nothing but the truth. 

" He gave his name as Andrew Campbell, head 
of the firm of Campbell & Co., brokers, of Throg- 
morton Street. 

" In the afternoon of March 1 8th Mr. Camp- 
bell, travelling on the Underground Railway, had 
noticed a very pretty woman in the same carriage 
as himself. She had asked him if she was in the 
right train for Aldersgate. Mr. Campbell replied 
in the affirmative, and then buried himself in the 
Stock Exchange quotations of his evening paper. 
At Gower Street, a gentleman In a tweed suit and 
bowler hat got into the carriage, and took a seat 
opposite the lady. 

"She seemed very much astonished at seeing 
him, but Mr. Andrew Campbell did not recollect 
the exact words she said. 

"The two talked to one another a good deal, 
and certainly the lady appeared animated and 
cheerful. Witness took no notice of them; he 
was very much engrossed in some calculations, and 
finally got out at Farringdon Street. He noticed 
that the man in the tweed suit also got out close 
behind him, having shaken hands with the lady, 
and said in a pleasant way: * Au revoirl Don't 
be late to-night.* Mr. Campbell did not hear the 



MR. ERRINGTON 107 

lady's reply, and soon lost sight of the man in the 
crowd. 

"Everyone was on tenter-hooks, and eagerly 
waiting for the palpitating moment when witness 
would describe and identify the man who last had 
seen and spoken to the unfortunate woman, within 
five minutes probably of her strange and unac- 
countable death. Personally I knew what wais 
coming before the Scotch stockbroker spoke. I 
could have jotted down the graphic and life-like 
description he would give of a probable murderer. 
It would have fitted equally well the man who sat 
and had luncheon at this table just now ; it would 
certainly have described five out of every ten young 
Englishmen you know. 

"The individual was of medium height, he 
wore a moustache which was not very fair nor 
yet very dark, his hair was between colours. He 
wore a bowler hat, and a tweed suit — and — and— • 
that was all — Mr. Campbell might perhaps know 
him again, but then again, he might not — ^he was 
not paying much attention — ^the gentleman was sit- 
ting on the same side of the carriage as himself — 
and he had his hat on all the time. He himself 
was busy with his newspaper — ^yes — he might 
know him again — ^but he really could not say. 

"Mr. Andrew Campbell's evidence was not 
worth very much, you will say. No, it was not 
in itself, and would not have justified any arrest 
were it not for the additional statements made 



io8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

by Mr. James Vemer, manager of Messrs. Rod- 
ney & Co., colour printers. 

" Mr. Verner is a personal friend of Mr. 
Andrew Campbell, and it appears that at Farring- 
don Street, where he was waiting for his train, he 
saw Mr. Campbell get out of a first-class railway 
carriage. Mr. Vemer spoke to him for a second, 
and then, just as the train was moving off, he 
stepped into the same compartment which had just 
been vacated by the stock-broker and the man in 
the tweed suit. He vaguely recollects a lady sit- 
ting in the opposite corner to his own, with her 
face turned away from him, apparendy asleep, but 
he paid no special attention to her. He was like 
nearly all business men when they are travelling-.- 
engrossed in his paper. Presently a special quota- 
tion interested him ; he wished to make a note of 
it, took out a pencil from his waistcoat pocket, and 
seeing a clean piece of paste-board on the floor,, 
he picked it up, and scribbled on it the memo- 
randum which he wished to keep. He then 
slipped the card into his pocket-book. 

" * It was only two or three days later,' added 
Mr. Verner, in the midst of breathless silence, 
* that I had occasion to refer to these same notes 
again. In the meanwhile the papers had been 
full of the mysterious death on the Underground 
Railway, and the names of those connected with 
it were pretty familiar to me. It was, therefore, 
ivith much astonishment that on looking at the 



MR. ERRINGTON 109 

paste-board which I had casually picked up in the 
railway carriage I saw the name on it, "Frank 
Errington." ' 

"There was no doubt that the sensation in 
court was almost unprecedented. Never since the 
days of the Fenchurch Street mystery, and the 
trial of Smethurst, had I seen so much excitement. 
Mind you, I was not excited — I knew by now 
every detail of that crime as if I had committed 
it myself. In fact, I could not have done it better, 
although I have been a student of crime for many 
years now. Many people there — ^his friends, 
mosdy — ^believed that Errington was doomed. I 
think he thought so, too, for I could see that his 
face was terribly white, and he now and then 
passed his tongue over his lips, as if they were 
parched. 

"You see he was in the awful dilemma — a 
perfectly natural one, by the way — of being abso* 
lutely incapable of proving an slibu The crime 
— if crime there was — ^had been committed three 
weeks ago. A man about town like Mr. Frank 
Errington might remember that he spent certain 
houis of a special afternoon at his club, or in the 
Park, but it is very doubtful in nine cases out of 
ten if he can find a friend who could positively 
swear as to having seen him there. No I no I 
Mr. Errington was in a tight corner, and he knew 
It. You sec, there were — ^besides the evidence — » 
two or three circumstances which did not improve 



no THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

matters for him. His hobby in the direction of 
toxicology, to begin with. The police had found 
in his room every description of poisonous sub- 
stances, including prussic acid. 

" Then, again, that journey to Marseilles, the 
start for Colombo, was, though perfectly inno- 
cent, a very unfortunate one. Mr. Errington had 
gone on an aimless voyage, but the public thought 
that he had fled, terrified at his own crime. Sir 
Arthur Inglewood, however, here again displayed 
his marvellous skill on behalf of his client by the 
masterly way in which he literally turned all the 
witnesses for the Crown inside out. 

"Having first got Mr. Andrew Campbell to 
state positively that in the accused he certainly 
did noi recognise the man in the tweed suit, the 
eminent lawyer, after twenty minutes' cross-exam- 
ination, had so completely upset the stock-broker's 
equanimity that it is very likely he would not have 
recognised his own office boy. 

"But through all his flurry and all his annoy- 
ance Mr. Andrew Campbell remained very sure of 
one thing; namely, that the lady was alive and 
cheerful, and talking pleasantly with the man in 
the tweed suit up to the moment when the latter, 
having shaken hands with her, left her with a 
pleasant ^ Ju revoirf Don't be late to-night.' 
He had heard neither scream nor struggle, and in 
his opinion, if the individual in the tweed suit 
had administered a dose of poison to his compan- 



MR. ERRINGTON iii 

ion, It must have been with her own knowledge 
and free will; and the lady in the train most 
emphatically neither looked nor spoke like a 
woman prepared for a sudden and violent death. 

"Mr. James Verner, against that, swore 
equally positively that he had stood in full view 
of the carriage door from the moment that Mr. 
Campbell got out until he himself stepped into 
the compartment, that there was no one else in 
that carriage between Farringdon Street and Aid- 
gate, and that the lady, to the best of his belief, 
had made no movement during the whole of that 
journey. 

" No; Frank Errington was not committed for 
trial on the capital charge," said the man in the 
corner with one of his sardonic smiles, "thanks 
to the cleverness of Sir Arthur Inglewood, his 
lawyer. He absolutely denied his identity with 
the man in the tweed suit, and swore he had not 
seen Mrs. Hazeldene since eleven o'clock in the 
morning of that fatal day. There was no proof 
that he had; moreover, according to Mr. Camp- 
bell's opinion, the man in the tweed suit was in 
all probability not the murderer. Common sense 
would not admit that a woman could have a 
deadly poison injected into her without her knowl* 
edge, while chatting pleasantly to her murderer. 

" Mr. Errington lives abroad now. He is 
about to marry. I don't think any of his real 
friends for a moment believed that he committed 



112 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

the dastardly crime. The police think they know 
better. They do know this much, that it could 
not have been a case of suicide, that if the man 
who undoubtedly travelled with Mrs. Hazeldene 
on that fatal afternoon had no crime upon his 
conscience he would long ago have come for- 
ward and thrown what light he could upon the 
mystery. 

" As to who that man was, the police in their 
blindness have not the faintest doubt. Under the 
unshakable belief that Errington is guilty they 
have spent the last few months in unceasing labour 
to try and find further and stronger proofs of his 
guilt. But they won't find them, because there 
are none. There are no positive proofs against 
the actual murderer, for he was one of those clever 
blackguards who think of everything, foresee 
every eventuality, who know human nature well, 
and can foretell exactly wh^t evidence will be 
brought against them, and act accordingly. 

" This blackguard from the first kept the figure, 
the personality, of Frank Errington before his 
mind. Frank Errington was the dust which the 
scoundrel threw metaphorically in the eyes of the 
police, and you must admit that he succeeded in 
blinding them — ^to the extent even of making them 
entirely forget the one simple little sentence, over- 
heard by Mr. Andrew Campbell, and which was, 
of course, the clue to the whole thing — ^the only 
slip the cunning rogue made — ^ Au revoirl Don't 



MR. ERRINGTON 113 

be late to-night.' Mrs. Hazeldene was going that 
night to the opera with her husband 

" You are astonished? " he added, with a shrug 
of the shoulders, " you do not see the tragedy yet, 
as I have seen it before me all along. The frivo- 
lous young wife, the flirtation with the friend? — » 
all a blind, all pretence. I took the trouble which 
the police should have taken immediately, of find- 
ing out something about the finances of the Hazel- 
dene menage. Money is in nine cases out of ten 
the keynote to a crime. 

** I found that the will of Mary Beatrice Hazel- 
dene had been proved by the husband, her sole 
executor, the estate being sworn at £15,000. I 
found out, moreover, that Mr. Edward Sholto 
Hazeldene was a poor shipper's clerk when he 
married the daughter of a wealthy builder in 
Kensington — ^and then I made note of the fact that 
the disconsolate widower had allowed his beard to 
grow since the death of his wife. 

** There's no doubt that he was a clever rogue," 
added the strange creature, leaning excitedly over 
the table, and peering into Polly's face. "Do 
you know how that deadly poison was injected into 
the poor woman's system ? By the simplest of all 
means, one known to every scoundrel in Southern 
Europe. A ring — ^yes! a ring, which has a tiny 
hollow needle capable of holding a sufficient 
quantity of prussic acid to have killed two persons 
instead of one. The man in the tweed suit shook 



114 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

hands with his fair companion — ^probably she 
hardly felt the prick, not sufficiently in any case 
to make her utter a scream. And, mind you, the 
scoundrel had every facility, through his friend- 
ship with Mr. Errington, of procuring what poison 
he required, not to mention his friend's visiting 
card. We cannot gauge how many months ago 
he began to try and copy Frank Errington in his 
style of dress, the cut of his moustache, his general 
appearance, making the change probably so 
gradual, that no one in his own entourage would 
notice it. He selected for his model a man his 
own height and build, with the same coloured 
hair." 

"But there was the terrible risk of being 
identified by his fellow-traveller in the Under- 
ground," suggested Polly. 

"Yes, there certainly was that risk; he chose 
to take it, and he was wise. He reckoned that 
several days would in any case elapse before that 
person, who, by the way, was a business man 
absorbed in his newspaper, would actually see him 
again. The great secret of successful crime is to 
study human nature," added the man in the corner, 
as he began looking for his hat and coat. " Ed- 
ward Hazeldene knew it well." 

"But the ring?" 

" He may have bought that when he was on his 
honeymoon," he suggested with a grim chuckle; 
" the tragedy was not planned in a week, it may 



MR. ERRINGTON 115 

have taken years to mature. But you will own 
that there goes a frightful scoundrel unhung. I 
have left you his photograph as he was a year ago, 
and as he is now. You will see he has shaved his 
beard again, but also his moustache. I fancy he 
is a friend now of Mr. Andrew Campbell." 

He left me wondering. I don't know what I 
did believe ; his whole story sounded so far-fetched 
and strange. Was he really giving me the results 
of continued thought, or was he experimenting as 
to exactly how far the credulity of a lady novelist 
could go? 

He left Miss Polly Burton wondering, not 
knowing what to believe. 

And that is why she missed her appointment 
with Mr. Richard Frobisher (of the London 
Mail) to go and see Maud Allan dance at the 
Palace Theatre that afternoon. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 

"A TITLE — 9, foreign title, I mean — is always 
very useful for purposes of swindles and frauds,'* 
remarked the man in the corner to Polly one day. 
"The cleverest robberies of modern times were 
perpetrated lately in Vienna by a man who dubbed 
himself Lord Seymour; whilst over here the same 
class of thief calls himself Count Something end- 
ing in ' o,' or Prince the other, ending in * off/ " 

** Fortunately for our hotel and lodging-house 
keepers over here," she replied, " they are begin- 
ning to be more alive to the ways of foreign 
swindlers, and look upon all titled gentry who 
speak broken English as possible swindlers or 
thieves." 

"The result sometimes being exceedingly un- 
pleasant to the real grands seigneurs who honour 
this country at times with their visits," replied the 
man in the comer. " Now, take the case of Prince 
Semionicz, a man whose sixteen quarterings are 
duly recorded in Gotha, who carried enough lug- 
gage with him to pay for the u^e of every room in 
an hotel for at least a week, whose gold cigarette 
case with diamond and turquoise ornament was 
actually stolen without his taking the slightest 

ii6 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 117 

trouble to try and recover it; that same man was 
undoubtedly looked upon with suspicion by the 
manager of the Liverpool North- Western Hotel 
from the moment that his secretary — a dapper, 
somewhat vulgar, little Frenchman — ^bespoke on 
behalf of his employer, with himself and a valet, 
the best suite of rooms the hotel contained. 

** Obviously those suspicions were unfounded, 
for the little secretary, as soon as Prince Semionicz 
had arrived, deposited with the manager a pile 
of bank notes, also papers and bonds, the value of 
which would exceed tenfold the most outrageous 
bill that could possibly be placed before the noble 
visitor. Moreover, M. Albert Lambert ex- 
plained that the Prince, who only meant to stay 
in Liverpool a few days, was on his way to 
Chicago, where he wished to visit Princess Anna 
Semionicz, his sister, who was married to Mr. Gir- 
wan, the great copper king and multi-millionaire. 

" Yet, as I told you before, in spite of all these 
undoubted securities, suspicion of the wealthy 
Russian Prince lurked in the minds of most Liver^ 
pudlians who came in business contact with him. 
He had been at the North- Western two days when 
he sent his secretary to Winslow and Vassall, the 
jewellers of Bold Street, with a request that they 
would kindly send a representative round to the 
hotel with some nice pieces of jewellery, diamonds 
and pearls chiefly, which he was desirous of taking 
as a present to his sister in Chicago. 



ii8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Mr. Winslow took the order from M. Albert 
with a pleasant bow. Then he went to his inner 
office and consulted with his partner, Mr. Vassall, 
as to the best course to adopt. Both the gentle- 
men were desirous of doing business, for business 
had been very slack lately: neither wished to re- 
fuse a^possible customer, or to offend Mr. Pettitt, 
the manager of the North- Western, who had rec- 
ommended them to the Prince. But that foreign 
title and the vulgar little French secretary stuck 
in the throats of the two pompous and worthy 
Liverpool jewellers, and together they agreed, 
firstly, that no credit should be given; and, sec- 
ondly, that if a cheque or even a banker's draft 
were tendered, the jewels were not to be given up 
until that cheque or draft was cashed. 

" Then came the question as to who should 
take the jewels to the hotel. It was altogether 
against business etiquette for the senior partners 
to do such errands themselves; moreover, it was 
thought that it would be easier for a clerk to ex- 
plain, without giving undue offence, that he could 
not take the responsibility of a cheque or draft, 
without having cashed it previously to giving up 
the jewels. 

" Then there was the question of the probable 
necessity of conferring in a foreign tongue. The 
head assistant, Charles Needham, who had been 
in the employ of Winslow and Vassall for over 
twelve years, was, in true British fashion, ignorant 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 119 

of any language save his own ; it was therefore de- 
cided to dispatch Mr. Schwarz, a young German 
clerk lately arrived, on the delicate errand. 

" Mr. Schwarz was Mr. Winslow's nephew and 
godson, a sister of that gentleman having married 
the head of the great German firm of Schwarz 
& Co., silversmiths, of Hamburg and Berlin. 

" The young man had soon become a great fa- 
vourite with his uncle, whose heir he would pre- 
sumably be, as Mr. Wlnslow had no children. 

" At first Mr. Vassall made some demur about 
sending Mr. Schwarz with so many valuable 
jewels alone in a city which he had not yet had 
die time to study thoroughly; but finally he al- 
lowed himself to be persuaded by his senior part- 
ner, and a fine selection of necklaces, pendants, 
bracelets, and rings, amounting in value to over 
£16,000, having been made, it was decided that 
Mr. Schwarz should go to the North-Western in 
a cab the next day at about three o'clock in the 
afternoon. This he accordingly did, the follow- 
ing day being a Thursday. 

'^ Business went on in the shop as usual under 
the direction of the head assistant, until about 
seven o'clock, when Mr. Winslow returned from 
his club, where he usually spent an hour over the 
papers every afternoon, and at once asked for his 
nephew. To his astonishment Mr. Needham in- 
formed him that Mr. Schwarz had not yet re- 
turned. This seemed a little strange, and Mr. 



I20 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Winslow, with a slightly anxious look in his face, 
went into the inner office in order to consult his 
junior partner. Mr. Vassall offered to go round 
to the hotel and interview Mr. Pettitt. 

" * I was beginning to get anxious myself,' he 
said, 'but did not quite like to say so. I have 
been in over half an hour, hoping every moment 
that you would come in, and that perhaps you 
could give me some reassuring news. I thought 
that perhaps you had met Mr. Schwarz, and were 
coming back together.' 

"However, Mr. Vassall walked round to the 
hotel and interviewed the hall porter. The latter 
perfectly well remembered Mr. Schwarz sending 
in his card to Prince Semionicz. 

" * At what time was that? ' asked Mr. Vassall. 

" * About ten minutes past three*, sir, when he 
came; it was about an hour later when he left.* 

" * When he left? ' gasped, more than said, Mr. 
Vassall. 

" * Yes, sir. Mr. Schwarz left here about a 
quarter before four, sir.' 

" * Are you quite sure ? ^ 

"•Quite sure. Mr. Pettitt was in the hall 
when he left, and he asked him something about 
business. Mr. Schwarz laughed and said, " not 
bad." I hope there's nothing wrong, sir,' added 
the man. 

" ' Oh — er — ^nothing — ^thank you. Can I see 
Mr. Pettitt?' 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 121 

** * Certainly, sir.' 

" Mr. Pettitt, the manager of the hotel, shared 
Mr. VassalFs anxiety, immediately he heard 
that the young German had not yet returned 
home. 

"*I spoke to him a little before four o'clock. 
We had just switched on the electric light, which 
we always do these winter months at that hour. 
But I shouldn't worry myself, Mr. Vassall; the 
young man may have seen to some business on 
his way home. You'll probably find him in when 
you go back.' 

" Apparently somewhat reassurred, Mr. Vassall 
thanked Mr. Pettitt and hurried back to the shop, 
only to find that Mr. Schwarz had not returned, 
though it was now close on eight o'clock. 

"Mr. Winslow looked so haggard and upset 
that It would have been cruel to heap reproaches 
upon his other troubles or to utter so much as the 
faintest suspicion that young Schwarz's permanent 
disappearance with £16,000 in jewels and money 
was within the bounds of probability. 

" There was one chance left, but under the cir« 
cumstances a very slight one indeed. The Wins- 
lows' private house was up the Birkenhead end 
of the town. Young Schwarz had been living 
with them ever since his arrival in Liverpool, and 
he may have— either not feeling well or for some 
other reason — gone straight home without calling 
at the shop. It was unlikely, as valuable jewellery 



122 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

was never kept at the private house, but — ^it just 
might have happened. 

''It would be useless/' continued the man in 
the comer, ''and decidedly uninteresting were I 
to relate to you Messrs. Winslow^s and Vassall^s 
further anxieties with regard to the missing young 
man. Suffice it to say that on reaching his private 
house Mr. Winslow found that his godson had 
neither returned nor sent any telegraphic message 
of any kind. 

" Not wishing to needlessly alarm his wife, Mr. 
Winslow made an attempt at eating his dinner, 
but directly after that he hurried back to the 
North-Western Hotel, and asked to see Prince 
Semionicz. The Prince was at the theatre with 
his secretary, and probably would not be home 
until nearly midnight. 

" Mr. Winslow, then, not knowing what to 
think, nor yet what to fear, and in spite of the 
horror he felt of giving publicity to his nephew's 
disappearance, thought it his duty to go round 
to the police-station and interview the inspector. 
It is wonderful how quickly news of that type 
travels in a large city like Liverpool. Already the 
morning papers of the following day were full of 
the latest sensation: 'Mysterious disappearance 
of a well-known tradesman.' 

'* Mr. Winslow found a copy of the paper con- 
taining the sensational announcement on his break- 
fast-table. It lay side by side with a letter ad- 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 123 

dressed to him in his nephew's handwriting, which 
had been posted in LiverpooL 

"Mr. Winslow placed that letter, written to 
him by his nephew, into the hands of the police. 
Its contents, therefore, quickly became public 
property. The astounding statements made 
therein by Mr. Schwarz created, in quiet, business- 
like Liverpool, a sensation which has seldom been 
equalled. 

" It appears that the young fellow did call on 
Priifce Semionicz at a quarter past three on 
Wednesday, December loth, with a bag full of 
jewels, amounting in value to some £16,000. The 
"Prbce duly admired, and finally selected from 
among the ornaments a necklace, pendant, and 
bracelet, the whole being priced by Mr. Schwarz, 
according to his instructions, at £10,500. prince 
Semionicz was most prompt and^Jbtismess-like in 
his dealings. 

*^jj[gu--ij^ill require immediate payment for 
these, of cour^Cy' he said in perfect English, *and 
I know you business men prefer solid cash to 
cheques, especially when dealing with foreigners. 
I always provide myself with plenty of Bank of 
England notes in consequence,' he added with a 
pleasant smile, *as £10,500 in gold would per- 
haps be a litde inconvenient to carry. If you will 
kindly make out the receipt, my secretary, M. 
Lambert, will setde all business matters with you.' 

" He thereupon took the jewels he had selected 



124 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

and locked them up in his dressing-case, the beau- 
tiful silver fittings of which Mr. Schwarz just 
caught a short glimpse of. Then, having been 
accommodated with paper and ink, the young 
jeweller made out the account and receipt, whilst 
Mr. Lambert, the secretary, counted out before 
him 105 crisp Bank of England notes of £100 
each. Then, with a final bow to his exceedingly 
urbane and eminently satisfactory customer, Mr. 
Schwarz took his leave. In the hall he saw and 
spoke to Mr. Pettitt, and then he went out into the 
street. 

t ** He had just left the hotel and was about to 
cross towards St. George's Hall when a gentle- 
man, in a magnificent fur coat, stepped quickly 
out of a cab which had been stationed near the 
kerb, and, touching him lightly upon the shoulder, 
said with an unmistakable air of authority, at the 
same time handing him a card : 

" * That is my name. I must speak with you 
immediately.' 

** Schwarz glanced at the card, and by the light 
of the arc lamps above his head read on it the 
name of * Dimitri Slaviansky Burgrenef!^ de la 
Ille Section de la Police Imperial de S. M. le 
Czar.' 

"Quickly the owner of the unpronounceable 
name and the significant title pointed to the cab 
from which he had just alighted, and Schwarz, 
whose every suspicion with regard to his princely 



e WITH you IMMEDIATELY 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 125 

customer bristled up in one moment, clutched his 
bag and followed his imposing interlocutor; as 
soon as they were both comfortably seated in the 
cab the latter began, with courteous apology in 
broken but fluent English : 

" * I must ask your pardon, sir, for thus tres- 
passing upon your valuable time, and I certainly 
should not have done so but for the certainty 
that our interests in a certain matter which I have 
in hand are practically identical, in so far that 
we both should wish to outwit a clever rogue.* 

'^ Instinctively, and his mind full of terrible ap- 
prehension, Mr. Schwarz's hand wandered to his 
pocket-book, filled to overflcrwing with the bank- 
notes whick he had so lately received from the 
Prince. 

'^ ^ Ah, I see,* interposed the courteous Russian 
with a smile, *he has played the confidence trick 
on you, widi die usual addition of so many so- 
called bank-aotes.' 

'** So-called,' gasped the unfortunate young 
man. 

" * I don't think I often err in my estimate of 
my own countrymen,* continued M. Burgreneff; 
*I have vast experience, you must remember. 
Therefore, I doubt if I am doing M. — er — ^what 
does he call himself? — Prince something — an in- 
justice if I assert, even without handling those 
crisp bits of paper you have in your pocket-book, 
that no bank would exchange them for gold/ 



126 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

'' Remembering his uncle's suspicions and his 
own, Mr. Schwarz cursed himself for his blindness 
and folly in accepting notes so easily without for 
a moment imagining that they might be false. 
Now, with everyone of those suspicions fully on 
the alert, he felt the bits of paper with nervous, 
anxious fingers, while the imperturbable Russian 
calmly struck a match. 

" * See here,' he said, pointing to one of the 
notes, * the shape of that " w '* in the signature of 
the chief cashier. I am not an English police 
officer, but I could pick out that spurious ''w" 
among a thousand genuine ones* You see, I have 
seen a good many.' 

"Now, of course, poor young Schwarz had 
not seen very many Bank of England notes. He 
could not have told whether one "w" in Mr. 
Bowen's signature is better than another, but, 
though he did not speak English nearly as fluently 
as his pompous interlocutor, he understood every, 
word of the appalling statement the latter had 
just made. 

"*Then that Prince,' he said, *at the 
hotel ' 



C( { 



Is no more Prince than you and I, my dear 
sir,' concluded the gentleman of His Imperial 
Majesty's police calmly. 

" * And the jewels? Mr. Winslow's jewels?' 
" * With the jewels there may be a chance— oh ! 
a mere chance. These forged bank-notes, which 



THE LIVERPOOL MYSTERY 127 

you accepted so trustingly, may prove the means 
of recovering your property.' 

"*How?' 

***The penalty of forging and circulating 
spurious bank-notes is very heavy. You know 
that. The fear of seven years' penal servitude 
will act as a wonderful sedative upon the — er — 
Prince's joyful mood. He will give up the jewels 
to me all right enough, never you fear. He 
knows,' added the Russian officer grimly, ^that 
there are plenty of old scores to settle up, without 
the additional one of forged bank-notes. Our in- 
terests, you see, are identical. May I rely on your 
co-operation ? ' 

" * Oh, I will do as you wish,' said the de- 
lighted young German. * Mr. Winslow and Mr. 
Vassall, they trusted me, and I have been such a 
fool. I hope it is not too late.* 

" * I think not,' said M. Burgreneff, his hand 
already on the door of the cab. * Though I have 
been talking to you I have kept an eye on the 
hotel, and our friend the Prince has not yet gone 
out. We are accustomed, you know, to have eyes 
everywhere, we of the Russian secret police. I 
don't think that I will ask you to be present at 
the confrontation. Perhaps you will wait for me 
in the cab. There is a nasty fog outside, and you 
will be more private. Will you give me those 
beautiful bank-notes? Thank you I Don't be 
anxious. I won't be long.' 



128 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" He lifted his hat, and slipped the notes into 
the inner pocket of his magnificent fur coat. As 
he did so, Mn Schwarz caught sight of a rich uni- 
form and a wide sash, which no doubt was destined 
to carry additional moral weight with the clever 
rogue upstairs. 

"Then His Imperial Majesty's police officer 
stepped quickly out of the cab, and Mr. Schwarz 
was left alone.'* 



CHAPTER XIII 



A CUNNING RASCAL 



** Yes, left severely alone," continued the man in 
the corner with a sarcastic chuckle. " So severely 
alone, in fact, that one quarter of an hour after 
another passed by and still the magnificent police 
officer in the gorgeous uniform did not return. 
Then, when it was too late, Schwarz cursed him- 
self once again for the double-dyed idiot that he 
was. He had been only too ready to believe that 
Prince Semionicz was a liar and a rogue, and un- 
der these unjust suspicions he had fallen an all too 
easy prey to one of the most cunning rascals he 
had ever come across. 

" An inquiry from the hall porter at the North- 
Westem elicited the fact that no such personage 
as Mr. Schwarz described had entered the hotel. 
The young man asked to see Prince Semionicz, 
hoping against hope that all was not yet lost. The 
Prince received him most courteously; he was 
dictating some letters to his secretary, while the 
valet was in the next room preparing his master^s 
evening clothes. Mr. Schwarz found it very diffi- 
cult to explain what he actually did want. 

^^ There stood the dressing-case in which the 

129 



130 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Prince had locked up the jewels, and there the 
bag from which the secretary had taken the bank* 
notes. After much hesitation on Schwarz's part 
and much impatience on that of the Prince, the 
young man blurted out the whole story of the so- 
called Russian police officer whose card he still 
held in his hand. 

" The Prince, it appears, took the whole thing 
wonderfully good-naturedly; no doubt he thought 
the jeweller a hopeless fool. He showed him the 
jewels, the receipt he held, and also a large bundle 
of bank-notes similar to those Schwarz had with 
such culpable folly given up to the clever rascal 
in the cab. 

'^'I pay all my bills with Bank of England 
notes, Mr. Schwarz. It would have been wiser, 
perhaps, if you had spoken to the manager of the 
hotel about me before you were so ready to believe 
any cock-and-bull story about my supposed 
rogueries.' 

'* Finally he placed a small 1 6mo volume before 
the young jeweller, and said with a pleasant 
smile : 

" * If people in this country who are in a large 
way of business, and are therefore likely to come 
in contact with people of foreign nationality, were 
to study these little volumes before doing business 
with any foreigner who claims a title, much disap- 
pointment and a great loss would often be saved. 
Now in this case had you looked up page 797 of 



A CUNNING RASCAL 131 

this little volume of Gotha's Almanach you would 
have seen my ^ name in it and known from the 
first that the so-called Russian detective was a 
liar/ 

"There was nothing more to be said, and Mr. 
Schwarz left the hoteL No doubt, now that he 
had been hopelessly duped, he 4^red not go home, 
and half hoped by communicating with the police 
that they might succeed nn arresting the thief 
before he had time to leave Liverpool. He inter- 
viewed Detective-Inspector Watson, and was at 
once confronted with the awful difficulty which 
would make the recovery of the bank-notes prac- 
tically hopeless. He had never had the time or 
opportunity of jotting down the numbers of the 
notes. 

" Mr. Winslow, though terribly wrathful 
against his nephew, did not wish to keep him out 
of his home. As soon as he had received 
Schwarz's letter, he traced him, with Inspector 
Watson's help, to his lodgings in North Street, 
where the unfortunate young man meant to re- 
main hidden until the terrible storm had blown 
over, or perhaps until the thief had been caught 
red-handed with the booty still in his hands. 

"This happy event, needless to say, never did 
occur, though the police made every effort to trace 
the man who had decoyed Schwarz into the cab. 
His appearance was such an uncommon one; it 
seemed most unlikely that no one in Liverpool 



132 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

should have noticed him after he left that cab. 
The wonderful fur coat, the long beard, all must 
have been noticeable, even though it was past four 
o'clock on a somewhat foggy December after- 
noon. 

" But every investigation proved futile ; no one 
answering Schwarz's description of the man had 
been seen anywhere. The papers continued to 
refer to the case as *the Liverpool Mystery.' 
Scotland Yard sent Mr. Fairburn down — ^the cele- 
brated detective — ^at the request of the Liverpool 
police, to help in the investigations, but nothing 
availed. 

" Prince Semionicz, with his suite, left Liver- 
pool, and he who had attempted to blacken his 
character, and had succeeded in robbing Messrs. 
Winslow and Vassall of £10,500, had completely 
disappeared.'^ 

The man in the corner readjusted his collar and 
necktie, which, during the narrative of this inter- 
esting mystery, had worked its way up his long, 
crane-like neck under his large flappy ears. His 
costume of checked tweed of a peculiarly loud pat- 
tern had tickled the fancy of some of the wait- 
resses, who were standing gazing at him and 
giggling in one corner. This evidently made him, 
nervous. He gazed up very meekly at Polly, 
looking for all the world like a bald-headed ad- 
jutant dressed for a holiday. 

** Df course, all sorts of theories of the theft got 



A CUNNING RASCAL 133 

about at first. One of the most popular, and at 
the same time most quickly exploded, being that 
young Schwarz had told a cock-and-bull story, and 
was the actual thief himself. 

"However, as I said before, that was very 
quickly exploded, as Mr. Schwarz senior, a very 
wealthy merchant, never allowed his son's care- 
lessness to be a serious loss to his kind employers. 
As soon as he thoroughly grasped all the circum- 
stances of the extraordinary case, he drew a cheque 
for £10,500 and remitted it to Messrs. Winslow 
and Vassall. It was just, but it was also high- 
minded. 

" All Liverpool knew of the generous action, as 
Mr. Winslow took care that it should; and any 
evil suspicion regarding young Mr. Schwarz van- 
ished as quickly as it had come. 

"Then, of course, there was the theory about 
the Prince and his suite, and to this day I fancy 
there are plenty of people in Liverpool, and also 
in London, who declare that the so-called Russian 
police officer was a confederate. No doubt that 
theory was very plausible, and Messrs. Winslow 
and Vassall spent a good deal of money in trying 
to prove a case against the Russian Prince. 

" Very soon, however, that theory was also 
bound to collapse. Mr. Fairburn, whose reputa- 
tion as an investigator of crime waxes in direct 
inverted ratio to his capacities, did hit upon the 
obvious course of interviewing the managers of the 



134 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

larger London and Liverpool agents de change. 
He soon found that Prince Semionicz had con- 
verted a great deal of Russian and French money 
into English bank-notes since his arrival in this 
country. More than £30,000 in good solid, 
honest money was traced to the pockets of the 
gentleman with the sixteen quarterings. It 
seemed, therefore, more than improbable that a 
man who was obviously fairly wealthy would risk 
imprisonment and hard labour, if not worse, for 
the sake of increasing his fortune by £10,000. 

" However, the theory of the Prince's guilt has 
taken firm root in the dull minds of our police au- 
thorities. They have had every information with 
regard to Prince Semionicz's antecedents from 
Russia ; his position, his wealth, have been placed 
above suspicion, and yet they suspect and go on 
suspecting him or his secretary. They have com- 
municated with the police of every European 
capital; and while they still hope to obtain suffi- 
cient evidence against those they suspect, they 
calmly allow the guilty to enjoy the fruit of his 
clever roguery." 

"The guilty?" cried Polly. "Who do you 
think " 

" Who do I think knew at that moment that 
young Schwarz had money in his possession ? " he 
said excitedly, wriggling in his chair like a jack- 
in-the-box. " Obviously someone was guilty of 
that theft who knew that Schwarz had gone to in- 



A CUNNING RASCAL 135 

terview a rich Russian, and would In all probability 
return with a large sum of money in his posses- 
sion?" 

"Who, indeed, but the Prince and his secre- 
tary? " she argued. " But just now you said " 

"Just now I said that the police were deter- 
mined to find the Prince and his secretary guilty; 
they did not look further than their own stumpy 
noses. Messrs. Winslow and Vassall spent money 
with a free hand in those investigations. Mr. 
iWinslow, as the senior partner, stood to lose over 
£9000 by that robbery. Now, with Mr. Vassall 
it was different. 

" When I saw how the police went on blunder- 
ing in this case I took the trouble to make certain 
inquiries, the whole thing Interested me so much, 
and I learnt all that I wished to know. I found 
out, namely, that Mr. Vassall was very much a 
junior partner in the firm, that he only drew ten 
per cent, of the profits, having been promoted 
lately to a partnership from having been senior 
assistant. 

" Now, the police did not take the trouble to 
find that out." 

" But you don't mean that " 

" I mean that in all cases where robbery affects 
more than one person the first thing to find out 
is whether it affects the second party equally with 
the first. I proved that to you, didn't I, over 
that robbery in PhlUimore Terrace? There, as 



136 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

here, one of the two parties stood to lose very 
little in comparison with the other " 

" Even then " she began. 

"Wait a moment, for I found out something 
more. The moment I had ascertained that Mr. 
Vassall was not drawing more than about £500 
a year from the business profits I tried to ascer- 
tain at what rate he lived and what were his 
chief vices. I found that he kept a fine house in 
Albert Terrace. Now, the rents of those houses 
are £250 a year. Therefore speculation, horse- 
racing or some sort of gambling, must help to 
keep up that establishment. Speculation and most 
forms of gambling are synonymous with debt and 
ruin. It is only a question of time. Whether 
Mr. Vassall was in debt or not at the time, that I 
cannot say, but this I do know, that ever since 
that unfortunate loss to him of about £1000 he has 
kept his house in nicer style than before, and he 
now has a good banking account at the Lancashire 
and Liverpool bank, which he opened a year after 
his * heavy loss.' " 

" But it must have been very difficult '' 

argued Polly. 

" What? " he said. " To have planned out the 
whole thing? For carrying it out was mere 
child's play. He had twenty-four hours in which 
to put his plan into execution. Why, what was 
there to do? Firstly, to go to a local printer in 
some out-of-the-way part of the town and get him 



A CUNNING RASCAL 137 

to print a few cards with the high-sounding name. 
That, of course, is done * while you wait.' Be- 
yond that there was the purchase of a good sec- 
ond-hand uniform, fur coat, and a beard and a wig 
from a costumier's. 

" No, no, the execution was not difficult ; it was 
the planning of it all, the daring that was so fine. 
Schwarz, of course, was a foreigner; he had only 
been in England a little over a fortnight. Vas- 
sall's broken English misled him ; probably he did 
not know the junior partner very intimately. I 
have no doubt that but for his uncle's absurd 
British prejudice and suspicions against the Rus- 
sian Prince, Schwarz would not have been so ready 
to believe in the latter's roguery. As I said, it 
would be a great boon if English tradesmen 
studied Gotha more; but it was clever, wasn't it? 
I couldn't have done it much better myself." 

That last sentence was so characteristic. Be- 
fore Polly could think of some plausible argument 
against his theory he was gone, and she was try- 
ling vainly to find another solution to the Liver- 
[pool mystery. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY 

The man in the corner had not enjoyed his lunch. 
Miss Polly Burton could see that he had some- 
thing on his mind, for, even before he began to 
talk that morning, he was fidgeting with his bit of 
string, and setting all her nerves on the jar. 

"Have you ever felt real sympathy with a 
criminal or a thief? " he asked her after a while* 

" Only once, I think,'* she replied, " and then 
I am not quite sure that the unfortunate woman 
who did enlist my sympathies was the criminal you 
make her out to be.'* 

" You mean the heroine of the York mystery ? ** 
he replied blandly. " I know that you tried very 
hard that time to discredit the only possible ver- 
sion of that mysterious murder, the version which 
is my own. Now, I am equally sure that you have 
at the present moment no more notion as to who 
killed and robbed poor Lady Donaldson in Char- 
lotte Square, Edinburgh, than the police have 
themselves, and yet you are fully prepared to pooh- 
pooh my arguments, and to disbelieve my version 
of the mystery. Such is the lady journalist's 
mind.** 

138 



THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY 139 

"If you have some cock-and-bull story to ex- 
plain that extraordinary case," she retorted, " of 
course I shall disbelieve it. Certainly, if you are 
going to try and enlist my sympathies on behalf 
of Edith Crawford, I can assure you you won't 
succeed." 

** Well, I don't know that that is altogether my 
intention. I see you are interested in the case, 
but I dare say you don't remember all the cir- 
cumstances. You must forgive me if I repeat that 
which you know already. If you have ever been 
to Edinburgh at all, you will have heard of Gra- 
ham's bank, and Mr. Andrew Graham, the pres- 
ent head of the firm, is undoubtedly one of the 
most prominent notabilities of * modern Athens.' " 

The man in the corner took two or three photos 
from his pocket-book and placed them before the 
young girl; then, pointing at them with his long 
bony finger — 

" That," he said, " is Mr. Elphinstone Graham, 
the eldest son, a typical young Scotchman, as you 
see, and this is David Graham, the second son." 

Polly looked more closely at this last photo, and 
saw before her a young face, upon which some 
lasting sorrow seemed already to have left its 
mark. The face was delicate and thin, the fea- 
tures pinched, and the eyes seemed almost unnatur- 
ally large and prominent. 

"He was deformed," commented the man in 
the corner in answer to the girl's thoughts, " and, 



I40 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

as such, an object of pity and even of repugnance 
to most of his friends. There was also a good 
deal of talk in Edinburgh society as to his mental 
condition, his mind, according to many intimate 
friends of the Grahams, being at times decidedly 
unhinged. Be that as it may, I fancy that his 
life must have been a very sad one; he had lost his 
mother when quite a baby, and his father seemed, 
strangely enough, to have an almost unconquer- 
able dislike towards him. 

"Everyone got to know presently of David 
Graham's sad position in his father's own house^ 
and also of the great affection lavished upon him 
by his godmother, Lady Donaldson, who was a 
sister of Mr. Graham's. 

" She was a lady of considerable wealth, being 
the widow of Sir George Donaldson, the great 
distiller; but she seems to have been decidedly 
eccentric. Latterly she had astonished all her 
family — ^who were rigid Presbyterians — ^by an- 
nouncing her intention of embracing the Roman 
'Catholic faith, and then retiring to the convent of 
St. Augustine's at Newton Abbot in Devonshire. 

" She had sole and absolute control of the vast 
fortune which a doting husband had bequeathed 
to her. Clearly, therefore, she was at liberty to 
bestow it upon a Devonshire convent if she chose. 
But this evidently was not altogether her intention. 

" I told you how fond she was of her deformed 
godson, did I not? Being a bundle of eccentric- 



THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY 141 

ities, she had many hobbies, none more pro- 
nounced than the fixed determination to see — be- 
fore retiring from the world altogether — David 
Graham happily married. 

"Now, it appears that David Graham, ugly, 
deformed, half-demented as he was, had fallen 
desperately in love with Miss Edith Crawford, 
daughter of the late Dr. Crawford, of Prince's 
Gardens. The young lady, however — ^very natu- 
rally, perhaps — fought shy of David Graham, 
who, about this time, certainly seemed very queer 
and morose, but Lady Donaldson, with character- 
istic determination, seems to have made up her 
mind to melt Miss Crawford's heart towards her 
unfortunate nephew. 

" On October the 2nd last, at a family party 
given by Mr. Graham in his fine mansion in Char- 
lotte Square, Lady Donaldson openly announced 
her intention of making over, by deed of gift, to 
her nephew, David Graham, certain property, 
money, and shares, amounting in total value to 
the sum of £100,000, and also her magnificent 
diamonds, which were worth £50,000, for the use 
of the said David's wife. Keith Macfinlay, a 
lawyer of Prince's Street, received the next day 
instructions for drawing up the necessary deed of 
gift, which she pledged herself to sign the day of 
her godson's wedding. 

"A week later The Scotsman contained the 
follo\nng paragraph: 



142 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 



(( i 



A marriage is arranged and will shortly take 
place between David, younger son of Andrew 
Graham, Esq., of Charlotte Square, Edinburgh 
and Dochnakirk, Perthshire, and Edith Lillian, 
only surviving daughter of the late Dr. Kenneth 
Crawford, of Prince's Gardens.' 

" In Edinburgh society comments were loud and 
various upon the forthcoming marriage, and, on 
the whole, these comments were far from compli' 
mentary to the families concerned. I do not think 
that the Scotch are a particularly sentimental race, 
but there was such obvious buying, selling, and 
bargaining about this marriage that Scottish 
chivalry rose in revolt at the thought. 

" Against that the three people most concerned 
seemed perfectly satisfied. David Graham was 
positively transformed; his moroseness was gone 
from him, he lost his queer ways and wUd man- 
ners, and became gentle and affectionate in the 
midst of this great and unexpected happiness. 
Miss Edith Crawford ordered her trousseau, and 
talked diamonds to her friends, and Lady Donald- 
son was only waiting for the consummation of this 
marriage — ^her heart's desire — ^before she finally 
retired from the world, at peace with it and with 
herself. 

" The deed of gift was ready for signature on 
the wedding day, which was fixed for November 
7th, and Lady Donaldson took up her abode tern- 



THE EDINBURGH MYSTERY 143 

porarily in her brother's house in Charlotte 
Square. 

" Mr. Graham gave a large ball on October 
23rd. Special interest is attached to this ball, 
from the fact that for this occasion Lady Donald- 
son insisted that David's future wife should wear 
the magnificent diamonds which were soon to be- 
come hers. 

"They were, it seems, superb, and became 
Miss Crawford's stately beauty to perfection. 
The ball was a brilliant success, the last guest 
leaving at four a. m. The next day it was the 
universal topic of conversation, and the day after 
that, when Edinburgh unfolded the late editions 
of its morning papers, it learned with horror and 
dismay that Lady Donaldson had been found 
murdered in her room, and that the celebrated 
diamonds had been stolen. 

" Hardly had the beautiful little city, however, 
recovered from this awful shock, than its news- 
papers had another thrilling sensation ready for 
their readers. 

^'Already all Scotch and English papers had 
mysteriously hinted at * startling information * 
obtained by the Procurator Fiscal, and at an * im- 
pending sensational arrest.' 

"Then the announcement came, and everyone 
in Edinburgh read, horror-struck and aghast, that 
the ' sensational arrest ' was none other than that 
of Miss Edith Crawford, for murder and robbery, 



144 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

both so daring and horrible that reason refused to 
believe that a young lady, bom and bred in the 
best social circle, could have conceived, much less 
executed, so heinous a crime. She had been ar- 
rested in London at the Midland Hotel, and 
brought to Edinburgh, where she was judicially 
examined, bail being refused." 



CHAPTER XV 



A TERRIBLE PLIGHT 



" Little more than a fortnight after that, EditK 
Cratrford was duly committed to stand her trial 
before the High Court of Justiciary. She had 
pleaded 'Not Guilty' at the pleading diet, and 
her defence was entrusted to Sir James Fenwick, 
one of the most eminent advocates at the Criminal 
Ban 

"Strange to say,*' continued the man in the 
corner after a while, " public opinion from the first 
went dead against the accused. The public is 
absolutely like a child, perfectly irresponsible and 
wholly illogical; it argued that since Miss Craw- 
ford had been ready to contract a marriage with 
a half-demented, deformed creature for the sake 
of his £100,000 she must have been equally ready 
to murder and rob an old lady for the sake of 
£50,000 worth of jewellery, without the encum- 
brance of so undesirable a husband. 

"Perhaps the great sympathy aroused in the 
popular mind for David Graham had much to do 
with this ill-feeling against the accused. David 
Graham had, by this cruel and dastardly murder, 
lost the best — if not the only — friend he possessed* 

145 



146 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

He had also lost at one fell swoop the large for- 
tune which Lady Donaldson had been about to 
assign to him. 

*^ The deed of gift had never been signed, and 
the old lady's vast wealth, instead of enriching 
her favourite nephew, was distributed — since she 
had made no will — amongst her heirs-at-law. 
And now to crown this long chapter of sorrow 
David Graham saw the girl he loved accused of 
the awful crime which had robbed him of friend 
and fortune. 

** It was, therefore, with an unmistakable thrill 
of righteous satisfaction that Edinburgh society 
saw this ^ mercenary girl ' in so terrible a plight. 

"I was immensely interested in the* case, and 
journeyed down to Edinburgh in order to get a 
good view of the chief actors in the thrilling 
drama which was about to be unfolded there. 

" I succeeded — I generally do— in securing one 
of the front seats among the audience, and was 
already comfortably installed in my place in court 
when through the trap door I saw the head of the 
prisoner emerge. She was very becomingly 
dressed in deep black, and, led by two policemen, 
she took her place in the dock. Sir James Fen- 
wick shook hands with her very warmly, and I 
could almost hear him instilling words of comfort 
into her. 

" The trial lasted six dear days, during which 
time more than forty persons were examined for 



A TERRIBLE PLIGHT 147 

the prosecution, and as many for the defence. 
But the most interesting witnesses were certainly 
the two doctors, the maid Tremlett, Campbell, the 
High Street jeweller, and David Graham. 

" There was, of course, a great deal of medical 
evidence to go through. Poor Lady Donaldson 
had been found with a silk scarf tied tightly round 
her neck, her face showing even to the inexperi- 
enced eye every symptom of strangulation. 

"Then Tremlett, Lady Donaldson's confi- 
dential maid, was called. Closely examined by 
Crown Counsel, she gave an account of the ball at 
Charlotte Square on the 23rd, and the wearing of 
the jewels by Miss Crawford on that occasion. 

" * I helped Miss Crawford on with the tiara 
over her hair,' she said; ' and my lady put the two 
necklaces round Miss Crawford's neck herself. 
There were also some beautiful brooches, brace- 
lets, and earrings. At four o'clock in the morning 
when the ball was over. Miss Crawford brought 
the jewels back to my lady's room. My lady had 
already gone to bed, and I had put out the electric 
light, as I was going, too. There was only one 
candle left in the room, close to the bed. 

" * Miss Crawford took all the jewels off, and 
asked Lady Donaldson for the key of the safe, 
so that she might put them away. My lady 
gave her the key and said to me, "You can go 
to bed, Tremlett, you must be dead tired." I 
was glad to go, for I could hardly stand up — I 



148 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

was so tired. I said, " Good night I " to my lady 
and also to Miss Crawford, who was busy putting 
the jewels away. As I was going out of the room 
I heard Lady Donaldson saying: "Have you 
managed it, my dear?" Miss Crawford said: 
** I have put everything away very nicely." * 

"In answer to Sir James Fenwick, Tremlett 
said that Lady Donaldson always carried the key 
of her jewel safe on a ribbon round her neck, and 
had done so the whole day preceding her death. 

"*On the night of the 24th,' she continued, 
'Lady Donaldson still seemed rather tired, and 
went up to her room directly after dinner, 
while the family were still sitting in the dining- 
room. She made me dress her hair, then she 
slipped on her dressing gown and sat in the arm- 
chair with a book. She told me that she then felt 
strangely uncomfortable and nervous, and could 
not account for it. 

" * However, she did not want me to sit with 
her, so I thought that the best thing I could do 
was to tell Mr. David Graham that her ladyship 
did not seem very cheeriul. Her ladyship was 
so fond of Mr. David ; it always made her happy 
to have him with her. I then went to my room, 
and at half-past eight Mr. David called me. He 
said: "Your mistress does seem a little restless 
to-night. If I were you I would just go and listen 
at her door in about an hour's time, and if she 
has not gone to bed I would go in and stay with 



A TERRIBLE PLIGHT 149 

her until she has." At about ten o'clock I did as 
Mr. David suggested, and listened at her lady- 
ship's door. However, all was quiet in the room, 
and, thinking her ladyship had gone to sleep, I 
went back to bed. 

" * The next morning at eight o'clock, when I 
took in my mistress's cup of tea, I saw her lying 
on the floor, her poor dear face all purple and 
distorted. I screamed, and the other servants 
came rushing along. Then Mr. Graham had the 
«ioor locked and sent for the doctor and the police.' 

" The poor woman seemed to find it very diflSi- 
cult not to break down. She was closely ques- 
tioned by Sir James Fenwick, but had nothing 
further to say. She had last seen her mistress 
alive at eight o'clock on the evening of the 24th. 

*'*And when you listened at her door at ten 
o'clock,' asked Sir James, * did you try to open 
it?' 

" * I did, but it was locked,' she replied. 

** * Did Lady Donaldson usually lock her bed- 
room at night?' 

Nearly always.' 

And in the morning when you took in the 
lea?* 

** * The door was open. I walked straight in.' 

" * You are quite sure ? ' insisted Sir James. 

" * I swear it,' solemnly asserted the woman. 

** After that we were informed by several mem- 
bers of Mr. Graham's establishment that Miss 



«c c 



I50 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Crawford had been in to tea at Charlotte Square 
in the afternoon of the 24th, that she told every- 
one she was going to London by the night mail, 
as she had some special shopping she wished to do 
there. It appears that Mr. Graham and David 
both tried to persuade her to stay to dinner, and 
then to go by the 9.10 p. m. from the Caledonian 
Station. Miss Crawford however had refused, 
saying she always preferred to go from the Wav- 
erley Station. It was nearer to her own rooms, 
and she still had a good deal of writing to do. 

" In spite of this, two witnesses saw the accused 
in Charlotte Square later on in the evening. She 
was carrying a bag which seemed heavy, and was 
walking towards the Caledonian Railway Sta- 
tion. 

" But the most thrilling moment in that sensa- 
tional trial was reached on the second day, when 
David Graham, looking wretchedly ill, unkempt, 
and haggard, stepped into the witness-box. A 
murmur of sympathy went round the audience at 
sight of him, who was the second, perhaps, most 
deeply stricken ^ctim of the Charlotte Square 
tragedy. 

" David Graham, in answer to Crown Counsel, 
gave an account of his last interview with L^dy 
Donaldson. 

"*Tremlett had told me that she seemed 
anxious and upset, and I went to have a chat with 
her; she soon cheered up and • • 



» 



A TERRIBLE PLIGHT 151 

"There the unfortunate young man hesitated 
visibly, but after a while resumed with an obvious 
effort. 

" ' She spoke of my marriage, and of the gift 
she was about to bestow upon me. She said the 
diamonds would be for my wife, and after that 
for my daughter, if I had one. She also com- 
plained that Mr. Macfinlay had been so punctilious 
about preparing the deed of gift, and that it was 
a great pity the £100,000 could not just pass from 
her hands to mine without so much fuss. 

** * I stayed talking with her for about half an 
hour; then I left her, as she seemed ready to go 
to bed; but I told her maid to listen at the door 
in about an hour's time.' 

" There was deep silence in the court for a few 
moments, a silence which to me seemed almost 
electrical. It was as if, some time before it was 
uttered, the next question put by Crown Counsel 
to the witness had hovered in the air. 

" ' You were engaged to Miss Edith Crawford 
at one time, were you not?' 

"One felt, rather than heard, the almost in- 
audible * Yes,' which escaped from David Gra- 
ham's compressed lips. 

" * Under what circumstances was that engage- 
ment broken off ? ' 

" Sir James Fenwick had already risen in pro- 
test, but David Graham had been the first to 
speak. 



152 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

'* ^ I do not think that I need answer that ques- 
tion.' 

** ' I will put it in a different form, then,' said 
Crown Counsel urbanely — *one to which my 
learned friend cannot possibly take exception. 
Did you or did you not on October 27th receive a 
letter from the accused, in which she desired to be 
released from her promise of marriage to you?' 

" Again David Graham would have refused to 
answer, and he certainly gave no audible reply 
to the learned counsel's question; but everyone in 
the audience there present — aye, every member 
of the jury and of the bar — read upon David Gra- 
ham's pale countenance and in his large, sorrowful 
e;res that ominous ^Yes!' which had failed to 
reach his trembling lips." 



CHAPTER XVI 



" NON PROVEN '' 



u 



There is no doubt," continued the man in the 
corner, " that what little sympathy the young girPs 
terrible position had aroused in the public mind 
had died out the moment that David Graham left 
the witness box on the second day of the trial. 
Whether Edith Crawford was guilty of murder or 
not, the callous way in which she had accepted a 
deformed lover, and then thrown him over, had 
set everyone's mind against her. 

" It was Mr. Graham himself who had been die 
first to put the Procurator Fiscal in possession of 
the fact that the accused had written to David 
from London, breaking off her engagement. This 
information had, no doubt, directed the attention 
of the Fiscal to Miss Crawford, and the police 
soon brought forward the evidence which had led 
to her arrest. 

*'We had a final sensation on the third day, 
when Mr. Campbell, jeweller, of High Street, 
gave his evidence. He said that on October 25th 
a lady came to his shop and offered to sell him a 
pair of diamond earrings. Trade had been very 
bad, and he had refused the bargain, although the 

153 



154 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

lady seemed ready to part with the earrings for 
an extraordinarily low sum, considering the beauty 
of the stones. 

'' In fact it was because of this evident desire on 
the lady's part to sell at any cost that he had 
looked at her more keenly than he otherwise 
would have done. He was now ready to swear 
that the lady that offered him the diamond ear- 
rings was the prisoner in the dock. 

'^I can assure you that as we all listened to 
this apparently damnatory evidence, you might 
have heard a pin drop amongst the audience in 
that crowded court. The girl alone, there in the 
dock, remained calm and unmoved. Remember 
that for two days we had heard evidence to prove 
that old Dr. Crawford had died leaving his 
daughter penniless, that having no mother she had 
been brought up by a maiden aunt, who had 
trained her to be a governess, which occupation 
she had followed for years, and that certainly she 
had never been known by any of her friends to be 
in possession of solitaire diamond earrings. 

"The prosecution had certainly secured an ace 
of trumps, but Sir James Fenwick, who during the 
whole of that day had seemed to take little inter* 
est in the proceedings, here rose from his seat, and 
I knew at once that he had got a tit-bit in the way 
of a ^ point ' up his sleeve. Gaunt, and unusually 
tall, and with his beak-like nose, he always looks 
strangely impressive when he seriously tackles a 



"NON PROVEN" 155 

witness. He did it this time with a vengeance, 
I can tell you. He was all over the pompous little 
jeweller in a moment. 

"*Had Mr. Campbell made a special entry in 
his book, as to the visit of the lady in question ? ' 

" ' No.' 

^' * Had he any special means of ascertaining 
when that visit did actually take place ? ' 

" * No— but '' 

" * What record had he of the visit? ' 

" Mr. Campbell had none. In fact, after about 
twenty minutes of cross-examination, he had to 
admit that he had given but little thought to the 
interview with the lady at the time, and certainly 
not in connection with the murder of Lady Don- 
aldson, until he had read in the papers that a 
young lady had been arrested. 

" Then he and his clerk talked the matter over, 
it appears, and together they had certainly recol- 
lected that a lady had brought some beautiful ear- 
rings for sale on a day which must have been the 
very morning after the murder. If Sir James 
Fenwick's object was to discredit this special wit- 
ness, he certainly gained his point. 

" All the pomposity went out of Mr. Campbell ; 
he became flurried, then excited, then he lost his 
temper. After that he was allowed to leave the 
court, and Sir James Fenwick resumed his seat, 
and waited like a vulture for its prey. 

It presented itself in the person of Mr. Camp- 



(i 



156 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

beirs clerk, who, before the Procurator Fiscal, 
had corroborated his employer's evidence in every 
respect. In Scotland no witness in any one case is 
present in court during the examination of another, 
and Mr. Macfarlane, die derk, was, therefore, 
quite unprepared for the pitfalls which Sir James 
Fenwick had prepared for him. He tumbled into 
them, head foremost, and the eminent advocate 
turned him inside out like a glove. 

^^Mr. Macfarlane did not lose his temper; he 
was of too humble a frame of mind to do that ; but 
he got into a hopeless quagmire of mixed recollec- 
tions, and he too left the witness-box quite unpre- 
pared to swear as to the day of the interview with 
the lady with the diamond earrings. 

" I dare say, mind you," continued the man in 
the corner wfith a chuckle, ^'that to most people 
present. Sir James Fenwick's cross-questioning 
seemed completely irrelevant. Both Mr. Camp- 
bell and his clerk were quite ready to swear that 
they had had an interview concerning some dia- 
mond earrings with a lady, of whose identity with 
the accused they were perfectly convinced, and to 
the casual observer the question as to the time or 
even the day when that interview took place could 
make but little di£ference in the ultimate issue. 

" Now I took in, in a moment, the entire drift 
of Sir James Fenwidc's defence of Edith Craw- 
ford. When Mr. Macfarlane left the witness- 
box, the second victim of the eminent advocate's 



"NON PROVEN" 157 



caustic toigue, I could read as in a book the whole 
history of that crime, its investigation and the mis- 
takes made by the police first and the public pros- 
ecutor afterwards. 

" Sir James Fenwick knew them, too, of course, 
and he placed a finger upon each one, demolishing 
— ^like a child who blows upon a house of cards— 
the entire scaffolding erected by the prosecution. 

" Mr. Campbell's and Mr. Macfarlane's iden- 
tification of the accused with the lady who, on some 
date — admitted to be uncertain — ^had tried to sell 
a pair of diamond earrings, was the first point. 
Sir James had plenty of witnesses to prove that 
on the 25th, the day after the murder, the accused 
was in London, whilst, the day before, Mf. Camp- 
bell's shop had been closed long before the family 
circle had seen the last of Lady Donaldson. 
Clearly the jeweller and his clerk must have seen 
some other lady, whom their vivid imagination 
had pictured as being identical with the accused. 

" Then came the great question of time. Mr. 
David Graham had been evidently the last to see 
Lady Donaldson alive. He had spoken to her as 
late as 8.30 p. fn. Sir James Fenwick had called 
two porters at the Caledonian Railway Station 
who testified to Miss Crawford having taken her 
seat in a first-class carriage of the 9.10 train, some 
minutes before it started. 

"*Was It conceivable, therefore,' argued Sir 
James, ^ that in the space of half an hour the ac- 



158 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

cused — a young girl — could have founci her way 
surreptitiously into the house, at a time when the 
entire household was still astir, that she should 
have strangled Lady Donaldson, forced open the 
safe, and made away with the jewels ! A man — 
an experienced burglar might have done it, but I 
contend that the accused is physically incapable of 
accomplishing such a feat. 

" * With regard to the broken engagement,' con- 
tinued the eminent counsel with a smile, ^ it may 
have seemed a little heartless, certainly, but heart- 
lessness is no crime in the eyes of the law. The 
accused has stated in her declaration that at the 
time she wrote to Mr. David Graham, breaking 
off her engagement, she had heard nothing of the 
JBdinburgh tragedy. 

" ' The London papers had reported the crime 
very briefly. The accused was busy shopping; she 
knew nothing of Mr. David Graham's altered 
position. In no case was the breaking off of the 
engagement a proof that the accused had obtained 
possession of the jewels by so foul a deed.' 

" It is, of course, impossible for me," continued 
the man in the comer apologetically, "to give 
you any idea of the eminent advocate's eloquence 
and masterful logic. It struck everyone, I think, 
just as it did me, that he chiefly directed his atten- 
tion to the fact that there was absolutely no proof 
against the accused. 

" Be that as it may, the result of that remark- 



"NON PROVEN" i5Sr 

able trial was a verdict of 'Non Proven.' The 
jury was absent forty minutes, and it appears that 
in the mind of every one of them there remained, 
in spite of Sir James' arguments, a firmly rooted 
conviction — call it instinct, if you like — ^that Edith 
Crawford had done away with Lady Donaldson 
in order to become possessed of those jewels, and 
that in spite of the pompous jeweller's many con- 
tradictions, she had o£fered him some of those 
diamonds for sale. But there was not enough 
proof to convict, and she was given the benefit of 
the doubt. 

^^I have heard English people argue that in 
England she would have been hanged. Person- 
ally I doubt that. I think that an English jury — > 
not having the judicial loophole of * Non Proven * 
would have been bound to acquit her. What da 
you think?'* 



CHAPTER XVII 



UNDENIABLE FACTS 



There was a moment's silence, for Polly did not 
reply immediately^ and he went on making impos- 
sible knots in his bit of string. Then she said 
quietly : 

'^ I think that I agree widi those English people 
who say that an English jury would have con- 
demned her. • • • I have no doubt that she 
was guilty. She may not have committed that aw- 
ful deed herself. Someone in the Charlotte 
Square house may have been her accomplice and 
killed and robbed Lady Donaldson while Edith 
Crawford waited outside for the jewels. David 
Graham left his godmother at 8.30 p. m. If the 
accomplice was one of the servants in the house, 
he or she would have had plenty of time for any 
amount of villainy, and Edith Crawford could 
have yet caught the 9.10 p. m. train from the 
Caledonian Station." 

"Then who, in your opinion/' he asked sar- 
casticaUy, and cocking his funny birdlike head on 
one side, " tried to sell diamond earrings to Mr. 
Campbell, the jeweller?" 

" Edith Crawford, of course," she retorted tri- 

160 



UNDENIABLE FACTS i6i 

umphantly; "he and his clerk both recognised 
her." 

"When did she try to sell them the earrings? '' 

" Ah, that is what I cannot quite make out, and 
there to my mind lies the only mystery in this case. 
On the 25 th she was certainly in London, and it 
is not very likely that she would go back to Edin- 
burgh in order to dispose of the jewels there,! 
where they could most easily be traced." 

" Not very likely, certainly," he assented drily. 

" And," added the young girl, " on the day be- 
fore she left for London, Lady Donaldson was 
alive." 

" And pray," he said suddenly, as with comic 
complacency he surveyed a beautiful knot he had 
just twisted up between his long fingers, "what 
has that fact got to do with it? " 

" But it has everything to do with it I " she re- 
torted. 

"Ah, there you go," he sighed with comic 
emphasis. " My teachings don't seem to have 
improved your powers of reasoning. You are as 
bad as the police. Lady Donaldson has been 
robbed and murdered, and you immediately argue 
that she was robbed and murdered by the same 
person." 

" But " argued Polly. 

" There is no but," he said, getting more and 
more excited. " See how simple it is. Edith 
Crawford wears the diamonds one night, then she 



i62 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

brings them back to Lady Donaldson's room. 
Remember the maid's statement : ' My lady 
said: "Have you put them back, my dear?" — 
a simple statement, utterly ignored by the prose- 
cution. But what did it mean ? That Lady Don- 
aldson could not see for herself whether Edith 
Crawford had put back the jewels or not, since 
she asked the question." 

" Then you argue " 

"I never argue," he interrupted excitedly; "I 
state undeniable facts. Edith Crawford, who 
wanted to steal the jewels, took them then and 
there, when she had the opportunity. Why in the 
world should she have waited? Lady Donaldson 
was in bed, and Tremlett, the maid, had gone. 

"The next day — namely, the 25th — ^she tried to 
dispose of a pair of earrings to Mr. Campbell; 
she fails, and decides to go to London, where she 
has a better chance. Sir James Fenwick did not 
think it desirable to bring forward witnesses to 
prove what I have since ascertained is a fact, 
namely, that on the 27th of October, three days 
before her arrest. Miss Crawford crossed over to 
Belgium, and came back to London the next day. 
In Belgium, no doubt. Lady Donaldson's dia- 
monds, taken out of their settings, calmly repose 
at this moment, while the money derived from 
their sale is safely deposited in a Belgian bank." 

"But then, who murdered Lady Donaldson, 
and why? " gasped Polly. 



UNDENIABLE FACTS 163 

"Cannot you guess?" he queried blandly. 
"Have I not placed the case clearly enough be- 
fore you? To me it seems so simple. It was a 
daring, brutal murder, remember. Think of one 
who, not being the thief himself, would, never- 
theless, have the strongest of all motives to shield 
the thief from the consequences of her own mis- 
deed: aye! and the power too — since it would 
be absolutely illogical, nay, impossible, that he 
should be an accomplice." 

" Surely " 

"Think of a curious nature, warped morally, 
as well as physically — do you know how those 
natures feel? A thousand times more strongly 
than the even, straight natures in everyday life. 
Then think of such a nature brought face to face 
with this awful problem. 

" Do you think that such a nature would hesi- 
tate a moment before committing a crime to save 
the loved one from the consequences of that deed ? 
Mind you, I don't assert for a moment that David 
Graham had any intention of murdering Lady 
Donaldson. Tremlett tells him that she seems 
strangely upset ; he goes to her room and finds that 
she has discovered that she has been robbed. She 
naturally suspects Edith Crawford, recollects the 
incidents . of the other night, and probably ex- 
presses her feelings to David Graham, and 
threatens immediate prosecution, scandal, what 
you will. 



i64 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" I repeat it again, I dare say he had no wish 
to kill her. Probably he merely threatened to. 
A medical gentleman who spoke of sudden heart 
failure was no doubt right. Then imagine David 
Graham's remorse, his horror and his fears. The 
empty safe probably is the first object that sug- 
gested to him the grim tableau of robbery and 
murder, which he arranges in order to insure his 
own safety. 

"But remember one thing: no miscreant was 
seen to enter or leave the house surreptitiously; 
the murderer left no signs of entrance, and none 
of exit. An armed burglar would have left some 
trace — someone would have heard something. 
Then who locked and unlocked Lady Donaldson's 
door that night while she herself lay dead? 

" Someone in the house, I tell you — someone 
who left no trace — someone against whom there 
could be no suspicion — ^someone who killed with- 
out apparently the slightest premeditation, and 
without the slightest motive. Think of it — I 
know I am right — and then tell me if I have at all 
enlisted your sympathies in the author of the 
Edinburgh Mystery." 

He was gone. Polly looked again at the photo 
of David Graham. Did a crooked mind really 
dwell in that crooked body, and were there in the 
world such crimes that were great enough to be 
deemed sublime? 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE THEFT AT THE ENGLISH PROVIDENT BANK 

" That question of motive is a very difficult and 
complicated one at times," said the man in the 
corner, leisurely pulling off a huge pair of flaming 
dog-skin gloves from his meagre fingers. ''I 
have known experienced criminal investigators 
declare, as an infallible axiom, that to find the per- 
son interested in the committal of the crime is to 
find the criminal. 

" Well, that may be so in most cases, but my 
experience has proved to me that there is one 
factor in this world of ours which is the main- 
spring of human actions, and that factor is human 
passions. For good or evil passions rule this poor 
humanity of ours. Remember, there are the 
women! French detectives, who are acknowl- 
edged masters in their craft, never proceed till 
after they have discovered the feminine element in 
a crime; whether in theft, murder, or fraud, ac- 
cording to their theory, there is always a woman. 

" Perhaps the reason why the Phillimore Ter- 
race robbery was never brought home to its per- 
petrators is because there was no woman in any 
way connected with it, and I am quite sure, on 

i«5 



i66 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

the other hand, that the reason why the thief at 
the English Provident Bank is still unpunished is 
because a clever woman has escaped the eyes of 
our police force." 

He had spoken at great length and very 
dictatorially. Miss Polly Burton did not venture 
to contradict him, knowing by now that whenever 
he was irritable he was invariably rude, and she 
then had the worst of it. 

"When I am old," he resumed, "and have 
nothing more to do, I think I shall take pro- 
fessionally to the police force; they have much to 
learn." 

Could anything be more ludicrous than the self- 
satisfaction, the abnormal conceit of this remark, 
made by that shrivelled piece of mankind, in a 
nervous, hesitating tone of voice? Polly made 
no comment, but drew from her pocket a beautiful 
piece of string, and knowing his custom of knot- 
ting such an article while unravelling his mysteries, 
she handed it across the table to him. She posi- 
tively thought that he blushed. 

"As an adjunct to thought," she said, moved 
by a conciliatory spirit. 

He looked at the invaluable toy which the young 
girl had tantalisingly placed close to his hand: 
then he forced himself to look all round the colffee 
room: at Polly, at the waitresses, at the piles of 
pallid buns upon the counter. But, involuntarily, 
his mild blue eyes wandered back lovingly to the 



THEFT AT PROVIDENT BANK 167 

long piece of string, on which his playful imagina- 
tion no doubt already saw a series of knots which 
would be equally tantalising to tie and to untie. 

" Tell me about the theft at the English Provi- 
dent Bank," suggested Polly condescendingly. 

He looked at her, as if she had proposed some 
mysterious complicity in an unheard-of crime. 
Finally his lean fingers sought the end of the 
piece of string, and drew it towards him. His 
face brightened up in a moment. 

" There was an element of tragedy in that par- 
ticular robbery," he began, after a few moments of 
beatified knotting, *' altogether different to that 
connected with most crimes; a tragedy which, as 
far as I am concerned, would seal my lips for ever, 
and forbid them to utter a word, which might lead 
the police on the right track." 

"Your lips," suggested Polly sarcastically, 
" are, as far as I can see, usually sealed before our 
long-suffering, incompetent police and — " 

"And you should be the last to grumble at 
this," he quietly interrupted, ** for you have spent 
some very pleasant half hours already, listening 
to what you have termed my * cock-and-bull ' 
stories. You know the English Provident Bank, 
of course, in Oxford Street; there were plenty of 
sketches of it at the time in the illustrated papers. 
Here is a photo of the outside. I took it myself 
some time ago, and only wished I had been cheeky 
or lucky enough to get a snapshot of the interior. 



i68 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

But you see that the office has a separate entrance 
from the rest of the house, which was, and still is, 
as is usual in such cases, inhabited by the manager 
and his family. 

^^ Mr. Ireland was the manager then; it was lesd 
than six months ago. He lived over the bank, 
with his wife and family, consisting of a son, who 
was clerk in the business, and two or three younger 
children. The house is really smaller than it 
looks on this photo, for it has no depth, and only 
one set of rooms on each floor looking out into the 
street, the back of the house being nothing but the 
staircase. Mr. Ireland and his family, therefore, 
occupied the whole of it. 

" As for the business premises, they were, and, 
in fact, arc, of the usual pattern; an office with 
its rows of desks, clerks, and cashiers, and beyond, 
through a glass door, the manager's private 
room, with the ponderous safe, and desk, and 
so on. 

" The private room has a door into the hall of 
the house, so that the manager is not obliged to 
go out into the street in order to go to business. 
There are no living rooms on the ground floor, 
and the house has no basement. 

" I am obliged to put all these architectural de- 
tails before you, though they may sound rather 
dry and uninteresting, but they are really necessary 
in order to make my argument clear. 

^^At night, of course, the bank premises are 



THEFT AT PROVIDENT BANK 169 

barred and bolted against the street, and as an 
additional precaution there is always a night 
watchman in the office. As I mentioned before, 
there is only a glass door between the office and 
the manager's private room. This, of course, ac- 
counted for the fact that the night watchman 
heard all that he did hear, on that memorable 
night, and so helped further to entangle the thread 
of that impenetrable mystery. 

" Mr. Ireland as a rule went into his office every 
morning a little before ten o'clock, but on that 
particular morning, for some reason which he 
never could or would explain, he went down be- 
fore having his breakfast at about nine o'clock. 
Mrs. Ireland stated subsequently that, not hearing 
him return, she sent the servant down to tell the 
master that breakfast was getting cold. The 
girl's shrieks were the first intimation that some- 
thing alarming had occurred. 

" Mrs. Ireland hastened downstairs. On reach- 
ing the hall she found the door of her husband's 
room open, and it was from there that the girl's 
shrieks proceeded. 

" * The master, mum — ^the poor master — ^he is 
dead, mum — I am sure he is dead I ' — accom- 
panied by vigorous thumps against the glass parti- 
tion, and not very measured language on the part 
of the watchman from the outer office, such as — 
* Why don't you open the door instead of making 
that row? ' 



170 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Mrs. Ireland is not the sort of woman who, 
under any circumstances, would lose her presence 
of mind. I think she proved that throughout the 
many trying circumstances connected with the in- 
vestigation of the case. She gave only one glance 
at the room and realised the situation. On the 
armchair, with head thrown back and eyes closed, 
lay Mr. Ireland, apparently in a dead faint ; some 
terrible shock must have very suddenly shattered 
his nervous system, and rendered him prostrate 
for the moment. What that shock had been it 
was pretty easy to guess. 

" The door of the safe was wide open, and Mn 
Ireland had evidently tottered and fainted before 
some awful fact which the open safe had revealed 
to him; he had caught himself against a chair 
which lay on the floor, and then finally sunk, un-^ 
conscious, into the armchair. 

"All this, which takes some time to describe," 
continued the man in the corner, "took, remem- 
ber, only a second to pass like a flash through Mrs. 
Ireland's mind ; she quickly turned the key of the 
glass door, which was on the inside, and with the 
help of James Fairbairn, the watchman, she 
carried her husband upstairs to his room, and im- 
mediately sent both for the police and for a 
doctor. 

" As Mrs. Ireland had anticipated, her husband 
had received a severe mental shock which had 
completely prostrated him. The doctor pre- 



THEFT AT PROVIDENT BANK 171 

scribed absolute quiet, and forbade all worrying 
questions for the present. The patient was not a 
young man; the shock had been very severe — It: 
was a case, a very slight one, of cerebral conges- 
tion — ^and Mr. Ireland's reason, If not his life, 
might be gravely jeopardised by any attempt to 
recall before his enfeebled mind the circumstances 
which had preceded his collapse. 

" The police therefore could proceed but slowly 
in their investigations. The detective who had 
charge of the case was necessarily handicapped, 
whilst one of the chief actors concerned in the 
drama was unable to help him in his work. 

"To begin with, the robber or robbers had 
obviously not found their way into the manager's 
inner room through the bank premises. James 
Falrbairn had been on the watch all night, with 
the electric light full on, and obviously no one 
could have crossed the outer office or forced the 
heavily barred doors without his knowledge. 

" There remained the other access to the room, 
that is, the one through the hall of the house. 
The hall door, it appears, was always barred and 
bolted by Mr. Ireland himself when he came 
home, whether from the theatre or his club. It 
was a duty he never allowed anyone to perform 
but himself. During his annual holiday, with his 
wife and family, his son, who usually had the 
sub-manager to stay with him on those occasions, 
did the bolting and barring — ^but with the distinct 



172 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

understanding that this should be done by ten 
o'clock at night. 

^' As I have already explained to you, there is 
only a glass partition between the general office 
and the manager's private room, and, according 
to James Fairbaim's account, this was naturally al- 
ways left wide open so that he, during his night 
watch, would of necessity hear the faintest sound. 
As a rule there was no light left in the manager's 
room, and the other door — ^that leading into the 
hall — ^was bolted from the inside by James Fair* 
bairn the moment he had satisfied himself that the 
premises were safe, and he had begun his night- 
watch. An electric bell in both the offices com- 
municated with Mr. Ireland's bedroom and that 
of his son, Mr. Robert Ireland, and there was a 
telephone installed to the nearest district messen- 
ger's office, with an understood signal which meant 
* Police.' 

"At nine o'clock in the morning it was the 
night watchman's duty, as soon as the first cashier 
had arrived, to dust and tidy the manager's room, 
and to undo the bolts ; after that he was free to go 
home to his breakfast and rest. 

" You will see, of course, that James Fairbairn's 
position in the English Provident Bank is one of 
great responsibility and trust; but then in every 
bank and business house there are men who hold 
similar positions. They are always men of well- 
known and tried characters, often old soldiers with 



THEFT AT PROVIDENT BANK 173 

good conduct records behind them, James Fair- 
bairn is a fine, powerful Scotchman; he had been 
night watchman to the English Provident Bank 
for fifteen years, and was then not more than 
forty-three or forty-four years old. He is an ex- 
guardsman, and stands six feet three inches in his 
socks. 

" It was his evidence, of course, which was of 
such paramount importance, and which somehow 
or other managed, in spite of the utmost care 
exercised by the police, to become public property^ 
and to cause the wildest excitement in banking 
and business circles. 

"James Fairbairn stated that at eight o'clock 
in the evening of March 25th, having bolted and 
barred all the shutters and the door of the bank 
premises, he was about to lock the manager's door 
as usual, when Mr. Ireland called to him from the 
floor above, telling him to leave that door open, as 
he might want to go into the office again for a 
minute when he came home at eleven o'clock. 
James Fairbairn asked if he should leave the light 
on, but Mr. Ireland said : * No, turn it out. I 
can switch it on if I want it.' 

" The night watchman at the English Provident 
Bank has permission to smoke ; he also is allowed a 
nice fire, and a tray consisting of a plate of sub- 
stantial sandwiches and one glass of ale, which he 
can take when he likes. James Fairbairn settled 
himself in front of the fire, lit his pipe, took out 



174 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

his newspaper, and began to read. He thought 
he had heard the street door open and shut at 
about a quarter to ten; he supposed that it was 
Mr. Ireland going out to his club, but at ten 
minutes to ten o'clock the watchman heard the 
door of the manager's room open, and someone 
enter, immediately closing the glass partition door 
and turning the key. 

"He naturally concluded it was Mr. Ireland 
himself. 

" From where he sat he could not see into the 
room, but he noticed that the electric light had not 
been switched on, and that the manager seemingly 
had no light but an occasional match. 

" * For the minute,' continued James Fairbairn, 
' a thought did just cross my mind that something 
might perhaps be wrong, and I put my newspaper 
aside and went to the other end of the room to- 
wards the glass partition. The manager's room 
was still quite dark, and I could not clearly see 
into it, but the door into the hall was open, and 
there was, of course, a light through there. I 
had got quite close to the partition, when I saw 
Mrs. Ireland standing in the doorway, and heard 
her saying in a very astonished tone of voice: 
*Why, Lewis, I thought you had gone to your 
club ages ago. What in the world are you doing 
herein the dark?* 

" * Lewis is Mr. Ireland's Christian name,* was 
James Fairbaim's further statement. * I did not 



THEFT AT PROVIDENT BANK 175 

hear the manager's reply, but quite satisfied now 
that nothing was wrong, I went back to my pipe 
and my newspaper. Almost directly afterwards I 
heard the manager leave his room, cross the hall 
and go out by the street door. It was only after 
he had gone that I recollected that he must have 
forgotten to unlock the glass partition and that I 
could not therefore bolt the door into the hall the 
same as usual, and I suppose that is how those 
confounded thieves got the better of me.* " 



CHAPTER XIX 



CONFLICTING EVIDENCE 



*^By the time the public had been able to think 
over James Fairbairn's evidence, a certain dis- 
quietude and unrest had begun to make itself felt 
both in the bank itself and among those of our 
detective force who had charge of the case. The 
newspapers spoke of the matter with very obvious 
caution, and warned all their readers to await the 
further development of this sad case. 

" While the manager of the English Provident 
3^nk lay in such a precarious condition of health, 
it was impossible to arrive at any definite knowl- 
edge as to what the thief had actually made away 
with. The chief cashier, however, estimated the 
loss at about £5000 in gold and notes of the bank 
money — ^that was, of course, on the assumption 
that Mr. Ireland had no private money or valu- 
ables of his own in the safe." 

" Mind you, at this point public sympathy was 
much stirred in favour of the poor man who lay 
ill, perhaps dying, and yet whom, strangely 
enough, suspicion had already slightly touched 
with its poisoned wing. 

" Suspicion is a strong word, perhaps, to use 
mt this point in the story. No one suspected any- 

176 



CONFLICTING EVIDENCE 177 

body at present. James Fafrbairn had told his 
story, and had vowed that some thief with false 
keys must have sneaked through the house into the 
inner office, 

" Public excitement, you will remember, lost 
nothing by waiting. Hardly had we all had time 
to wonder over the night watchman's singular evi- 
dence, and, pending further and fuller details, to 
check our growing sympathy for the man who 
was ill, than the sensational side of this mysteri- 
ous case culminated in one extraordinary, abso- 
lutely unexpected fact. Mrs. Ireland, after a 
twenty-four hours' untiring watch beside her hus- 
band's sick bed, had at last been approached by 
the detective, and been asked to reply to a few 
simple questions, and thus help to throw some 
light on the mystery which had caused Mr. Ire- 
land's illness and her own consequent anxiety. 

" She professed herself quite ready to reply to 
any questions put to her, and she literally as- 
tounded both inspector and detective when she 
firmly and emphatically declared that James Fair- 
bairn must have been dreaming or asleep when he 
thought he saw her in the doorway at ten o'clock 
that night, and fancied he heard her voice. 

" She may or may not have been down in the 
hall at that particular hour, for she usually ran 
down herself to see if the last post had brought 
any letters, but most certainly she had neither seen 
nor spoken to Mr. Ireland at that hour, for Mr. 



178 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Ireland had gone out an hour before, she herself 
having seen him to the front door. Never for a 
moment did she swerve from this extraordinary 
statement. She spoke to James Fairbaim in the 
presence of the detective, and told him he must 
absolutely have been mistaken, that she had not 
seen Mr. Ireland, and that she had not spoken to 
him. 

" One other person was questioned by the police, 
and that was Mr. Robert Ireland, the manager's 
eldest son. It was presumed that he would know 
something of his father's affairs; the idea having 
now taken firm hold of the detective's mind that 
perhaps grave financial difficulties had tempted the 
unfortunate manager to appropriate some of the 
firm's money. 

" Mr. Robert Ireland, however, could not say 
very much. His father did not confide in him to 
the extent of telling him all his private affairs, but 
money never seemed scarce at home certainly, and 
Mr. Ireland had, to his son's knowledge, not a 
single extravagant habit. He himself had been 
dining out with a friend on that memorable even- 
ing, and had gone on with him to the Oxford 
Music Hall. He met his father on the doorstep 
of the bank at about 1 1.30 p. m. and they went in 
together. There certainly was nothing remark- 
able about Mr. Ireland then, his son averred; he 
appeared in no way excited, and bade his son 
good-night quite cheerfully. 



CONFLICTING EVIDENCE 179 

" There was the extraordinary, the remarkable 
hitch," continued the man in the comer, waxing 
more and more excited every moment. " The pub- 
lic — who is at times very dense — saw it clearly 
nevertheless: of course, everyone at once jumped 
to the natural conclusion that Mrs. Ireland was 
telling a lie — a noble lie, a self-sacrificing lie, a 
lie endowed with all the virtues if you like, but 
still a lie. 

" She was trying to save her husband, and was 
going the wrong way to work. James Fairbairn, 
after all, could not have dreamt quite all that he 
declared he had seen and heard. No one sus- 
pected James Fairbairn ; there was no occasion to 
do that; to begin with, he was a great heavy 
Scotchman with obviously no powers of invention, 
such as Mrs. Ireland's strange assertion credited 
him with; moreover, the theft of the bank-notes 
could not have been of the slightest use to him. 

" But, remember, there was the hitch ; without 
it the public mind would already have condemned 
the sick man upstairs, without hope of rehabilita- 
tion. This fact struck everyone. 

" Granting that Mr. Ireland had gone into his 
office at ten minutes to ten o'clock at night for 
the purpose of extracting £5000 worth of notes 
and gold from the bank safe, whilst giving the 
theft the appearance of a night burglary; grant- 
ing that he was disturbed in his nefarious project 
by his wife, who, failing to persuade him to make 



i8o THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

restitution, took his side boldly, and very clumsily 
attempted to rescue him out of his difficult position 
— why should he, at nine o'clock the following 
morning, fall in a dead faint and get cerebral 
congestion at sight of a defalcation he knew had 
occurred? One might simulate a fainting fit, but 
no one can assume a high temperature and a con- 
gestion, which the most ordinary practitioner who 
happened to be called in would soon see were non- 
existent* 

"Mr. Ireland, according to James Fairbairn's 
evidence, must have gone out soon after the theft, 
come in again with his son an hour and a half 
later, talked to him, gone quietly to bed, and 
waited for nine hours before he fell ill at sight of 
his own crime. It was not logical, you will admit. 
Unfortunately, the poor man himself was unable 
to give any explanation of the night's tragic ad- 
ventures. 

"He was still very weak, and though under 
strong suspicion, he was left, by the doctor's or- 
ders, in absolute ignorance of the heavy charges 
which were gradually accumulating against him. 
He had made many anxious inquiries from all 
those who had access to his bedside as to the result 
of the investigation, and the probable speedy cap- 
ture of the burglars, but everyone had strict orders 
to inform him merely that the police so far had no 
clue of any kind. 

"You will admit, as everyone did, that there 



CONFLICTING EVIDENCE i8i 

was something very pathetic about the unfortu- 
nate man's position, so helpless to defend himself, 
if defence there was, against so much overwhelm- 
ing evidence. That is why I think public sym- 
pathy remained with him. Still, it was terrible 
to think of his wife presumably knowing him to 
be guilty, and anxiously waiting whilst dreading 
the moment when, restored to health, he would 
have to face the doubts, the suspicions, probably 
the open accusations, which were fast rising up 
around him.'' 



•i/, 



CHAPTER XX 



AN ALIBI 



'* It was dose on six weeks before the doctor at 
last allowed his patient to attend to the grave busi- 
ness which had prostrated him for so long. 

" In the meantime, among the many people who' 
directly or indirecdy were made to suffer in this 
mysterious affair, no one, I think, was more pitied, 
and more genuinely sympathised with, than Robert 
Ireland, the manager's eldest son, 

*^You remember that he had been clerk in the 
bank? Well, naturally, the moment suspicion be- 
gan to fasten on his father his position in the 
business became untenable. I think everyone was 
very kind to him. Mr. Sutherland French, who 
was made acting manager * during Mr. Lewis Ire- 
land's regrettable absence,' did everything in his 
power to show his goodwill and sympathy to the 
young man, but I don't think that he or anyone 
else was much astonished when, after Mrs. Ire- 
land's extraordinary attitude in the case had be- 
come public property, he quietly intimated to the 
acting manager that he had determined to sever 
his connection with the bank. 

" The best of recommendations was, of course, 
placed at his disposal, and it was finally under- 

183 



AN ALIBI 183 

stood that, as soon as his father was completely 
restored to health and would no longer require his 
presence in London, he would try to obtain em- 
ployment somewhere abroad. He spoke of the 
new volunteer corps organised for the military 
policing of the new colonies, and, truth to tell, no 
one could blame him that he should wish to leave 
far behind him all London banking connections. 
The son's attitude certainly did not tend to 
ameliorate the father's position. It was pretty 
evident that his own family had ceased to hope in 
the poor manager's innocence. 

"And yet he was absolutely innocent. You 
must remember how that fact was clearly demon- 
strated as soon as the poor man was able to say a 
word for himself. And he said it to some pur- 
pose, too. 

" Mr. Ireland was, and is, very fond of music. 
On the evening in question, while sitting in his 
club, he saw in one of the daily papers the an- 
nouncement of a peculiarly attractive programme 
at the Queen's Hall concert. He was not dressed, 
but nevertheless felt an irresistible desire to hear 
one or two of these attractive musical items, and 
he strolled down to the Hall. Now, this sort of 
alibi is usually very difficult to prove, but Dame 
Fortune, oddly enough, favoured Mr. Ireland on 
this occasion, probably to compensate him for the 
hard knocks she had been dealing him pretty 
freely of late. 



i84 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" It appears that there was some difficulty about 
his seat, which was sold to him at the box office, 
and which he, nevertheless, found wrongfully oc- 
cupied by a determined lady, who refused to move. 
The management had to be appealed to; the at- 
tendants also remembered not only the incident, 
but also the face and appearance of the gentleman 
who was the innocent cause of the altercation. 

" As soon as Mr. Ireland could speak for him- 
self he mentioned the incident and the persons 
who had been witness to it. He was identified by 
them, to the amazement, it must be confessed, of 
police and public alike, who had comfortably de- 
cided that no one could be guilty save the man- 
ager of the Provident Bank himself. Moreover, 
Mr. Ireland was a fairly wealthy man, with a 
good balance at the Union Bank, and plenty of 
private means, the result of years of provident 
living. 

"He had but to prove that if he really had 
been in need of an immediate £5000 — ^which was 
all -the amount extracted from the bank safe that 
night — ^he had plenty of securities on which he 
could, at an hour's notice, have raised twice that 
sum. His life insurances had been fully paid up; 
he had not a debt which a £5 note could not easily 
have covered. 

" On the fatal night he certainly did remember 
asking the watchman not to bolt the door to his 
office, as he thought he might have one or two let- 



AN ALIBI 185 

ters to write when he came home, but later on he 
had forgotten all about this. After the concert 
he met his son in Oxford Street, just outside the 
house, and thought no more about the office, the 
door of which was shut, and presented no unusual 
appearance. 

" Mr. Ireland absolutely denied having been in 
his office at the hour when James Fairbairn posi- 
tively asserted he heard Mrs. Ireland say in an 
astonished tone of voice : * Why, Lewis, what in 
the world are you doing here? * It became pretty 
clear, therefore, that James Fairbaim's view of the 
manager's wife had been a mere vision. 

'* Mr. Ireland gave up his position as manager 
of the English Provident: both he and his wife 
felt no doubt that on the whole, perhaps, there 
had been too much talk, too much scandal con* 
nected with their name, to be altogether advan- 
tageous to the bank. Moreover, Mr. Ireland's 
health was not so good as it had been. He has 
a pretty house now at Sittingbourne, and amuses 
himself during his leisure hours with amateur 
horticulture, and I, who alone in London besides 
the persons directly connected with this mysteri- 
ous affair, know the true solution of the enigma, 
often wonder how much of it is known to the ex- 
manager of the English Provident Bank." 

The man in the corner had been silent for 
some time. Miss Polly Burton, in her presump- 
tion, had made up her mind, at the commencement 



1 86 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

of his tale, to listen attentively to every point of 
the evidence in connection with the case which he 
recapitulated before her, and to follow the point, 
in order to try and arrive at a conclusion of her 
own, and overwhelm the antediluvian scarecrow 
with her sagacity. 

She said nothing, for she had arrived at no con- 
clusion; the case puzzled everyone, and had 
amazed the public in its various stages, from the 
moment when opinion began to cast doubt on Mr. 
Ireland's honesty to that when his integrity was 
proved beyond a doubt. One or two people had 
suspected Mrs. Ireland to have been the actual 
thief, but that idea had soon to be abandoned. 

Mrs. Ireland had all the money she wanted ; the 
theft occurred six months ago, and not a single 
bank-note was ever traced to her pocket; more- 
over, she must have had an accomplice, since 
someone else was in the manager's room that 
night; and if that someone else was her accom- 
plice, why did she risk betraying him by speaking 
loudly in the presence of James Fairbairn, when it 
would have been so much simpler to turn out the 
light and plunge the hall into darkness ? 

"You are altogether on the wrong track," 
sounded a sharp voice in direct answer to Polly's 
thoughts — "altogether wrong. If you want to 
acquire my method of induction, and improve 
your reasoning power, you must follow my system. 
First think of the one absolutely undisputed, posi- 



AN ALIBI 187 

tive fact. You must have a starting point, and 
not go wandering about in the realms of supposi- 
tions." 

"But there are no positive facts," she said 
irritably. 

"You don't say so?" he said quietly. "Do 
you not call it a positive fact that the bank safe 
was robbed of £5000 on the evening of March 
25th before 11.30 p. m.?" 

" Yes, that is all which is positive and " 

" Do you not call it a positive fact," he inter- 
rupted quietly, " that the lock of the safe not be- 
ing picked, it must have been opened by its own 
Icey?" 

" I know that," she rejoined crossly, " and that 
is why everyone agreed that James Fairbairn- 
could not possibly " 

"And do you not call it a positive fact, then, 
that James Fairbairn could not possibly, etc., etc., 
seeing that the glass partition door was locked 
from the inside; Mrs. Ireland herself let James 
Fairbairn into her husband's office when she saw 
him lying fainting before the open safe. Of 
course that was a positive fact, and so was the one 
that proved to any thinking mind that if that safe 
was opened with a key, it could only have been 
done by a person having access to that key." 

" But the man in the private office ^" 

"Exactly! the man in the private office. 
Enumerate his points, if you please," said the 



i88 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

funny creature, marking each point with one of his 
favourite knots. ** He was a man who might that 
night have had access to the key of the safe, un- 
suspected by the manager or even his wife, and a 
man for whom Mrs. Ireland was willing to tell a 
downright lie. Are there many men for whom 
a woman of the better middle class, and an Eng- 
lish woman, would be ready to perjure herself? 
Surely not I She might do it for her husband. 
The public thought she had. It never struck them 
that she might have done it for her son I '' 

" Her son 1 " exclaimed Polly. 

" Ah I she was a clever woman/* he ejaculated 
enthusiastically, '^one with courage and presence 
of mind, which I don't think I have ever seen 
equalled. She runs downstairs before going to bed 
in order to see whether the last post has brought 
any letters. She sees the door of her husband's 
office ajar, she pushes it open, and there, by the 
sudden flash of a hastily struck match, she realises 
in a moment that a thief stands before the open 
safe, and in that thief she has already recognised 
her son. At that very moment she hears the 
watchman's step approaching the partition. There 
is no time to warn her son; she does not know 
the glass door is locked; James Fairbairn may 
switch on the electric light and see the young man 
in the very act of robbing his employers' safe. 

"One thing alone can reassure the watchman. 
One person alone had the right to be there at that 



AN ALIBI 189 

hour of the night, and without hesitation she pro- 
nounces her husband's name. 

" Mind you, I firmly believe that at the time the 
poor woman only wished to gain time, that she 
had every hope that her son had not yet had the 
opportunity to lay so heavy a guilt upon his con- 
science. 

" What passed between mother and son we shall 
never know, but this much we do know, that the 
young villain made oif with his booty, and trusted 
that his mother would never betray him. Poor 
woman I what a night of it she must have spent; 
but she was clever and far-seeing. She knew that 
her husband's character could not suffer through 
her action. Accordingly, she took the only course 
open to her to save her son even from his father's 
wrath, and boldly denied James Fairbairn's state- 
ment. 

" Of course, she was fully aware that her hus- 
band could easily clear himself, and the worst that 
could be said of her was that she had thought him 
guilty and had tried to save him. She trusted to 
the future to clear her of any charge of complicity 
in the theft. 

" By now everyone has forgotten most of the 
circumstances; the police are still watching the 
career of James Fairbairn and Mrs. Ireland's ex- 
penditure. As you know, not a single note, so 
far, has been traced to her. Against that, one or 
two of the notes have found their way back to 



I90 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

England. No one realises how easy it Is to cash 
English bank-notes at the smaller agents de change 
abroad. The changeurs are only too glad to get 
them; what do they care where they come from as 
long as they are genuine ? And a week or two later 
M . le Changeur could not swear who tendered him 
any one particular note. 

" You see, young Robert Ireland went abroad ; 
he will come back some day having made a for- 
tune. There's his photo. And this is his mother 
— a clever woman, wasn't she ? " 

And before Polly had time to reply he was 
gone. She really had never seen anyone move 
across a room so quickly. But he always left an 
interesting trail behind: a piece of string knotted 
from end to end and a few photos. 



CHAPTER XXI 



THE DUBLIN MYSTERY 



"I ALWAYS thought that the history of that 
forged will was about as interesting as any I had 
read," said the man in the comer that day. He 
had been silent for some time, and was medita- 
tively sorting and looking through a packet of 
small photographs in his pocket-book. Polly 
guessed that some of these would presently be 
placed before her for inspection — and she had not 
long to wait. 

" That is old Brooks," he said, pointing to one 
of the photographs, " Millionaire Brooks, as he 
was called, and these are his two sons, Percival 
and Murray. It was a curious case, wasn't it? 
Personally I don't wonder that the police were 
completely at sea. If a member of that highly 
estimable force happened to be as clever as the 
clever author of that forged will, we should have 
very few undetected crimes in this country." 

" That is why I always try to persuade you to 
give our poor ignorant police the benefit of your 
great insight and wisdom," said Polly, with a 
smile. 

"I know," he said blandly, "you have been 

191 



192 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

most kind in that way, but I am only an amateur. 
Crime interests me only when it resembles a clever 
game of chess, with many intricate moves which 
all tend to one solution, the checkmating of the 
antagonist — ^the detective force of the country. 
Now, confess that, in the Dublin mystery, the 
clever police there were absolutely checkmated.'* 

" Absolutely.'' 

"Just as the public was. There were actually 
two crimes committed in one city which have com- 
pletely baffled detection: the murder of Patrick 
Wethered the lawyer, and the forged will of Mil- 
lionaire Brooks. There are not many millionaires 
in Ireland; no wonder old Brooks was a notability 
in his way, since his business — ^bacon curing, I be- 
lieve it is — is said to be worth over £2,000,000 of 
solid money. 

"His younger son, Murray, was a refined, 
highly-educated man, and was, moreover, the apple 
of his father's eye, as he was the spoilt darling of 
Dublin society; good-looking, a splendid dancer, 
and a perfect rider, he was the acknowledged 
* catch ' of the matrimonial market of Ireland, and 
many a very aristocratic house was opened hos- 
pitably to the favourite son of the millionaire. 

" Of course, Percival Brooks, the eldest son, 
would inherit the bulk of the old man's property 
and also probably the larger share of the busi- 
ness; he, too, was good-looking, more so than his 
brother; he, too, rode, dancedf and talked well. 



THE DUBLIN MYSTERY 193 

but It was many years ago that mammas with 
marriageable daughters had given up all hopes of 
Percival Brooks as a probable son-in-law. That 
young man's infatuation for Maisie Fortescue, a 
lady of undoubted charm but very doubtful ante- 
cedents, who had astonished the London and Dub- 
lin music-halls with her extravagant dances, was 
too well known and too old-established to encour- 
age any hopes in other quarters. 

"Whether Percival Brooks would ever marry 
Maisie Fortescue was thought to be very doubtful. 
Old Brooks had the full disposal of all his wealth, 
and it would have fared ill with Percival if he in- 
troduced an undesirable wife into the magnificent 
Fitzwilliam Place establishment. 

"That is how matters stood," continued the 
man in the comer, "when Dublin society one 
morning learnt, with deep regret and dismay, that 
old Brooks had died very suddenly at his residence 
after only a few hours' illness. At first it was 
generally understood that he had had an apoplec- 
tic stroke; anyway, he had been at business hale 
and hearty as ever the day before his death, 
which occurred late on the evening of February 

I St. 

"It was the morning papers of February 2nd 
which told the sad news to their readers, and it 
was those self-same papers which on that eventful 
morning contained another even more startling 
piece of news, that proved the prelude to a series 



194 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

of sensations such as tranquil, placid Dublin had 
not experienced for many years. This was, that 
on that very afternoon which saw the death of 
Dublin's greatest millionaire, Mr. Patrick Weth- 
ered, his solicitor, was murdered in Phoenix Park 
at five o'clock in the afternoon while actually 
walking to his own house from hit risit to his 
dient in Fltzwilliam Place. 

** Patrick Wethered was as well known as the 
proverbial town pump; his mysterious and tragic 
death filled all Dublin with dismay. The lawyer, 
who was a man sixty years of age, had been 
struck on the back of the head by a heavy stick, 
garrotted, and subsequendy robbed, for neither 
money, watch, or pocket-book were found upon 
his person, whilst the police soon gathered from 
Patrick Wethered's household that he had left 
home at two o'clock that afternoon, carrying both 
watch and pocket-book, and undoubtedly money as 
well. 

^^ An inquest was hdd, and a verdict of wilful 
murder was found against some person or persons 
unknown. 

*' But Dublin had not exhausted its stock of 
sensations yet. Millionaire Brooks had been 
buried with due pomp and magnificence, and his 
will had been proved (his business and personalty 
being estimated at £2,500,000) by Percival 
Gordon Brooks, his eldest son and sole executor. 
The younger son, Murray, who had devoted the 



THE DUBLIN MYSTERY 195 

best years of his life to being a friend and com- 
panion to his father, while Percival ran after 
ballet dancers and music-hall stars — Murray, who 
had avowedly been the apple of his father's eye in 
consequence — ^was left with a miserly pittance of 
£300 a year, and no share whatever in the gigantic 
business of Brooks & Sons, bacon curers, of Dub- 
lin. 

" Something had evidently happened within the 
precincts of the Brooks' town mansion, which the 
public and Dublin society tried in vain to fathom. 
Elderly mammas and blushing debutantes were al- 
ready thinking of the best means whereby next 
season they might more easily show the cold 
shoulder to young Murray Brooks, who had so 
suddenly become a hopeless * detrimental ' in the 
marriage market, when all these sensations ter- 
minated in one gigantic, overwhelming bit of 
scandal, which for the next three months furnished 
food for gossip in every drawing-room in Dublin. 

" Mr. Murray Brooks, namely, had entered a 
claim for probate of a will, made by his father in 
1 89 1, declaring that the later will, made the very 
day of his father's death and proved by his 
brother as sole executor, was null and void, that 
will being a forgery." 



CHAPTER XXII 



FORGERY 



" The facts that transpired In connection with this 
extraordinary case were sufficiently mysterious to 
puzzle everybody. As I told you before, all Mr. 
Brooks' friends never quite grasped the idea that 
the old man should so completely have cut o£F his 
favourite son with the proverbial shilling. 

" You see, Percival had always been a thorn in 
the old man's flesh. Horse-racing, gambling, 
theatres, and music-halls were, in the old pork- 
butcher's eyes, so many deadly sins which his son 
committed every day of his life, and all the Fitz^ 
William Place household could testify to the many 
and bitter quarrels which had arisen between 
father and son over the latter's gambling or racing 
debts. Many people asserted that Brooks would 
sooner have left his money to charitable institu- 
tions than seen it squandered upon the brightest 
stars that adorned the music-hall stage. 

"The case came up for hearing early in the 
autumn. In the meanwhile Percival Brooks had 
given up his racecourse associates, settled down in 
the Fitzwilliam Place mansion, and conducted his 
father's business, without a manager, but with all 

196 



FORGERY 197 

the energy and forethought which he had pre- 
viously devoted to more unworthy causes. 

" Murray had elected not to stay on in the old 
house; no doubt associations were of too painful 
and recent a nature; he was boarding with the 
family of a Mr. Wilson Hibbert, who was the 
late Patrick Wethered's, the murdered lawyer's, 
partner. Thej were quiet, homely people, who 
lived in a very pokey little house in Kilkenny 
Street, and poor Murray must, in spite of his 
grief, have felt very bitterly the change from his 
luxurious quarters in his father's mansion to his 
present tiny room and homely meals. 

" Percival Brooks, who was now drawing an in- 
come of over a hundred thousand a year, was very 
severely criticised for adhering so strictly to the 
letter of his father's will, and only paying his 
brother that paltry £300 a year, which was very 
literally but the crumbs off his own magnificent 
dinner table. 

" The issue of that contested will case was 
therefore awaited with eager interest. In the 
meanwhile the police, who had at first seemed 
fairly loquacious on the subject of the murder of 
Mr. Patrick Wethered, suddenly became strangely 
reticent, and by their very reticence aroused a cer- 
tain amount of uneasiness in the public mind, un- 
til one day the Irish Times published the following 
extraordinary, enigmatic paragraph: 

" * We hear on authority which cannot be ques- 



198 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

tioned, that certain extraordinary developments 
are expected in connection with the brutal murder 
of our distinguished townsman, Mr. Wethered; 
the police, in fact, are vainly trying to keep it 
secret that they hold a due which is as important 
as it is sensational, and that they only await the 
impending issue of a well-known litigation in the 
probate court to effect an arrest/ 

" The Dublin public flocked to the court to hear 
the arguments in the great will case. I myself 
journeyed down to Dublin. As soon as I suc- 
ceeded in fighting my way to the densely crowded 
court, I took stock of the various actors in the 
drama, which I as a spectator was prepared to 
enjoy. There were Percival Brooks and Murray 
his brother, the two litigants, both good-looking 
and well-dressed, and both striving, by keeping up 
a running conversation with their lawyer, to appear 
unconcerned and confident of the issue. With 
Percival Brooks was Henry Oranmore, the emi- 
nent Irish K. C, whilst Walter Hibbert, a rising 
young barrister, the son of Wilson Hibbert, ap- 
peared for Murray. 

" The will of which the latter claimed probate 
was one dated 1891, and had been made by Mr. 
Brooks during a severe illness which threatened 
to end his days. This will had been deposited in 
the hands of Messrs. Wethered and Hibbert, 
solicitors to the deceased, and by it Mr. Brooks 
left his personalty equally divided between his 



FORGERY 199 

two sons, but had left his business entirely to his 
youngest son, with a charge of £2000 a year 
upon it, payable to Percival. You see that 
Murray Brooks, therefore, had a very deep in- 
terest in that second will being found null and 
void. 

" Old Mr. Hibbert had very ably instructed his 
son, and Walter Hibbert*s opening speech was ex- 
ceedingly clever. He would show, he said, on 
behalf of his client, that the will dated February 
1st, 1908, could never have been made by the 
late Mr. Brooks, as it was absolutely contrary to 
his avowed intentions, and that if the late Mr. 
Brooks did on the day in question make any fresh 
will at all, it certainly was not the one proved by 
Mr. Percival Brooks, for that was absolutely a 
forgery from beginning to end. Mr. Walter 
Hibbert proposed to call several witnesses in sup- 
port of both these points. 

"On the other hand, Mr. Henry Oranmore, 
K. C, very ably and courteously replied that he 
too had several witnesses to prove that Mr. 
Brooks certainly did make a will on the day in 
question, and that, whatever his intentions may 
have been in the past, he must have modified them 
on the day of his death, for the will proved by 
Mr. Percival Brooks was found after his death 
under his pillow, duly signed and witnessed and in 
every way legal. 

"Then the battle began in sober earnest. 



20O THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

There were a great many witnesses to be called on 
both sides, their evidence being of more or less 
importance — chiefly less. But the interest chiefly 
centred round the prosaic figure of John O'Neill, 
the butler at Fitzwilliam Place, who had been in 
Mn Brooks' family for thirty years. 

" * I was clearing away my breakfast things,* 
said John, *when I heard the master's voice in 
the study close by. Oh, my, he was that angry I 
I could hear the words " disgrace," and " villain,'* 
and " liar," and " ballet-dancer," and one or two 
other ugly words as applied to some female lady, 
which I would not like to repeat. At first I did 
not take much notice, as I was quite used to hear- 
ing my poor dear master having words with Mr. 
Percival. So I went downstairs carrying my 
breakfast things; but I had just started cleaning 
my silver when the study bell goes ringing 
violently, and I hear Mr. Percival's voice shouting 
in the hall : " John I quick I Send for Dr. Mulli- 
gan at once. Your master is not well 1 Send one 
of the men, and you come up and help me to get 
Mr. Brooks to bed." 

" * I sent one of the grooms for the doctor,* 
continued John, who seemed still affected at the 
recollection of his poor master, to whom he had 
evidently been very much attached, *and I went 
up to see Mr. Brooks. I found him lying on the 
study floor, his head supported in Mr. Percival's 
arms. **My father has fallen in a faint," said 



FORGERY aoi 

the young master; " help me to get him up to his 
room before Dr. Mulligan comes/? 

" * Mr. Percival looked very white and upset, 
which was only natural; and when we had got 
my poor master to bed, I asked if I should not 
go and break the news to Mr. Murray, who had 
gone to business an hour ago. However, before 
Mr. Percival had time to give me an order the 
doctor came. I thought I had seen death plainly 
writ in my master's face, and when I showed the 
doctor out an hour later, and he told me that he 
would be back directly, I knew that the end was 
near. 

" * Mr. Brooks rang for me a minute or two 
later. He told me to send at once for Mr. Weth- 
ered, or else for Mr. Hibbert, if Mr. Wethered 
could not come. " I haven't many hours to live, 
John,'* he says to me — "my heart is broke, the 
doctor says my heart is broke. A man shouldn't 
marry and have children, John, for they will 
sooner or later break his heart." I was so upset 
^I couldn't speak; but I sent round at once for Mr. 
Wethered, who came himself just about three 
o'clock that afternoon. 

" * After he had been with my master about an 
hour I was called in, and Mr. Wethered said to 
me that Mr. Brooks wished me and one other of 
us servants to witness that he had signed a paper 
which was on a table by his bedside. I called Pat 
Mooney, the head footman, and before us both 



202 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Mr. Brooks put his name at the bottom of that 
paper. Then Mr. Wethered give me the pen and 
told me to write my name as a witness, and that 
Pat Mooney was to do the same. After that we 
were both told that we coiild go.* 

" The old butler went on to explain that he was 
present in his late master's room on the following 
day when the undertakers, who had come to lay 
the dead man out, found a paper underneath his 
pillow. John O'Neill, who recognised the paper 
as the one to which he had appended his signature 
the day before, took it to Mr. Percival, and gave 
it into his hands. 

" In answer to Mr. Walter Hibbert, John as- 
serted positively that he took the paper from the 
undertaker's hand and went straight with it to 
Mr. Percival's room. 

"*He was alone,' said John; *I gave him the 
paper. He just glanced at it, and I thought he 
looked rather astonished, but he said nothing, and 
I at once left the room.' 

" * When you say that you recognised the paper 
as the one which you had seen your master sign 
the day before, how did you actually recognise 
that it was the same paper ? ' asked Mr. Hibbert 
amidst breathless interest on the part of the spec^ 
tators. I narrowly observed the witness' face. 

" * It looked exactly the same paper to me, sir,* 
replied John, somewhat vaguely. 

" * Did you look at the contents, then ? ' 



FORGERY 203 



CC ( 
CI i 
(C i 
CC i 



No, sir ; certainly not' 
Had you done so the day before ? ' 
No, sir, only at my master's signature.' 
Then you only thought by the outside look 
of the paper that it was the same ? ' 

" * It looked the same thing, sir,' persisted John 
obstinately. 

"You see," continued the man in the corner, 
leaning eagerly forward across the narrow marble 
table, " the contention of Murray Brooks' adviser 
was that Mr. Brooks, having made a will and 
hidden it — for some reason or other, under his 
pillow — ^that will had fallen, through the means 
related by John O'Neill, into the hands of Mr. 
Percival Brooks, who had destroyed it and sub- 
stituted a forged one in its place, which adjudged 
the whole of Mr. Brooks' millions to himself. It 
was a terrible and very daring accusation directed 
against a gentleman who, in spite of his many wild 
oats sowed in early youth, was a prominent and 
important figure in Irish high-life. 

"All those present were aghast at what they 
heard, and the whispered comments I could hear 
around me showed me that public opinion, at least, 
did not uphold Mr. Murray Brooks' daring ac- 
cusation against his brother. 

" But John O'Neill had not finished his evi- 
dence, and Mr. Walter Hibbert had a bit of sen- 
sation still up his sleeve. He had, namely, pro- 
duced a paper, the will proved by Mr. Percival 



Ui 



ao4 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Brooks, and had asked John O'Neill if once again 
he recognised the paper. 

*** Certainly, sir/ said John unhesitatingly, 
*that is the one the undertaker found under my 
poor dead master's pillow, and which I took to 
Mr. PercivaPs room immediately.' 

'* Then the paper was unfolded and placed be- 
fore the witness. 

" *Now, Mr. O'Neill, wiU you teU me if that is 
your signature?' 

*' John looked at it for a moment; then he said, 
* Excuse me, sir,' and produced a pair of spectacles 
which he carefully adjusted before he again exam- 
ined the paper. Then he thoughtfully shook his 
head. 

" * It don't look much like my writing, sir,' he 
said at last. ^ That is to say,' he added, by way of 
elucidating the matter, * it does look like my writ- 
ing, but then I don't think it is.' 

"There was at that moment a look in Mr. 
Percival Brooks' face," continued the man in the 
comer quietly, "which then and there gave me 
the whole history of that quarrel, that illness of 
Mr. Brooks, of the will, aye ! and of the murder 
of Patrick Wethcred too. 

"All I wondered at was how every one of 
those learned counsel on both sides did not get 
the clue just the same as I did, but went on argu- 
ing, speechif]ring, cross-examining for nearly a 
week, until they arrived at the one conclusion 



\ 



FORGERY 205 

which was inevitable from the very first, namely, 
that the will was a forgery — ^ gross, clumsy, idiotic 
forgery, since both John O'Neill and Pat Mooney, 
the two witnesses, absolutely repudiated the signa- 
tures as their own. The only successful bit of 
caligraphy the forger had done was the signature 
of old Mr* Brooks. 

" It was a very curious fact, and one which had 
undoubtedly aided the forger in accomplishing his 
work quickly, that Mr. Wethered the lawyer hav- 
ing, no doubt, realised that Mr. Brooks had not 
many moments in life to spare, had not drawn up 
the usual engrossed, magnificent document dear to 
the lawyer heart, but had used for his client's will 
one of those regular printed forms which can be 
purchased at any stationer's. 

"Mr. Percival Brooks, of course, flady denied 
the serious allegation brought against him. He 
admitted that the butler had brought him the docu- 
ment the morning after his father's death, and 
that he certainly, on glancing at it, had been very 
much astonished to see that that document was his 
father's will. Against that he declared that its 
contents did not astonish him in the slightest de- 
gree, that he himself knew of the testator's inten- 
tions, but that he certainly thought his father had 
entrusted the will to the care of Mr. Wethered, 
who did all his business for him. 

" * I only very cursorily glanced at the signa- 
ture,' he concluded, speaking in a perfectly calm. 



2o6 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

clear voice ; ' you must understand that the thought 
of forgery was very far from my mind, and that 
my father's signature is exceedingly well imitated, 
if, indeed, it is not his own, which I am not at all 
prepared to believe. As for the two witnesses' 
signatures, I don't think I had ever seen them be- 
fore. I took the document to Messrs. Barkston 
and Maud, who had often done business for me 
before, ^and they assured me that the will was in 
perfect form and order.' 

''Asked why he had not entrusted the will to 
his father's solicitors, he replied : 

'' * For the very simple reason that exactly half 
an hour before the will was placed in my hands, I 
had read that Mr. Patrick Wethered had been 
murdered the night before. Mr. Hibbert, the 
junior partner, was not personally known to me.' 

"After that, for form's sake, a good deal of 
expert evidence was heard on the subject of the 
dead man's signature. But that was quite unani- 
mous, and merely went to corroborate what had 
already been established beyond a doubt, namely, 
that the will dated February ist, 1908, was a 
forgery, and probate of the will dated 1891 was 
therefore granted to Mr, Murray Brooks, the sole 
executor mentioned therein." 



CHAPTER XXIII 



A MEMORABLE DAY 



" Two days later the police applied for a warrant 
for the arrest of Mr. Percival Brooks on a charge 
of forgery. 

" The Crown prosecuted, and Mr. Brooks had 
again the support of Mr. Oranmore, the eminent 
K. C. Perfectly calm, like a man conscious of his 
own innocence and unable to grasp the idea that 
justice does sometimes miscarry, Mr. Brooks, the 
son of the millionaire, himself still the possessor of 
a very large fortune under the former will, stood 
up In the dock on that memorable day in October, 
1908, which still no doubt lives in the memory of 
his many friends. 

" All the evidence with regard to Mr. Brooks' 
last moments and the forged will was gone 
through over again. That will, it was the conten- 
tion of the Crown, had been forged so entirely in 
favour of the accused, cutting out everyone else, 
that obviously no one but the beneficiary under 
that false will would have had any motive in forg- 
ing it. 

"Very pale, and with a frown between his 
deep-set, handsome Irish eyes, Percival Brooks lis- 

ao7 



2o8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

tened to this large volume of evidence piled up 
against him by the Crown. 

" At times he held brief consultations with Mr. 
Oranmore, who seemed as cool as a cucumber. 
Have you ever seen Oranmore in court? He is 
a character worthy of Dickens. His pronounced 
brogue, his fat, podgy, clean-shaven face, his not 
always immaculately dean large hands, have often 
delighted the caricaturist. As it very soon tran- 
spired during that memorable magisterial inquiry, 
he relied for a verdict in favour of his client upon 
two main points, and he had concentrated all his 
skill upon making these two points as telling as he 
possibly could. 

"The first point was the question of time. 
John O'Neill, cross-examined by Oranmore, stated 
without hesitation that he had given the will to 
Mr. Percival at eleven o'clock in the morning. 
And now the eminent K. C. brought forward and 
placed in the witness-box the very lawyers into 
whose hands the accused had then immediately 
placed the will. Now, Mr. Barkston, a very well- 
known solicitor of King Street, declared positively 
that Mr. Percival Brooks was in his office at a 
quarter before twelve; two of his clerks testified 
to the same time exactly, and it was impossible, 
contended Mr. Oranmore, that within three- 
quarters of an hour Mr. Brooks could have gone 
to a stationer's, bought a will form, copied Mr. 
Wethered's writing, his father's signature, and 
that of John O'Neill and Pat Mooney. 



A MEMORABLE DAY 209 

** Such a thing might have been planned, ar- 
ranged, practised, and ultimately, after a great 
deal of trouble, successfully carried out, but human 
intelligence could not grasp the other as a pos- 
sibility. 

" Still the judge wavered. The eminent K, C. 
had shaken but not shattered his belief in the 
prisoner's guilt. But there was one point more, 
and this Oranmore, with the skill of a dramatist, 
had reserved for the fall of the curtain. 

"He noted every sign in the judge's face, he 
guessed that his client was not yet absolutely safe, 
then only did he produce his last two witnesses. 

"One of them was Mary Sullivan, one of the 
housemaids in the Fitzwilliam mansion. She had 
been sent up by the cook at a quarter past four 
o'clock on the afternoon of February ist with 
some hot water, which the nurse had ordered, for 
the master's room. Just as she was about to 
knock at the door Mr. Wethered was coming out 
of the room. Mary stopped with the tray in her 
hand, and at the door Mr. Wethered turned and 
said quite loudly: *Now, don't fret, don't be 
anxious ; do try and be calm. Your will is safe in 
my pocket, nothing can change it or alter one word 
of it but yourself.' 

" It was, of course, a very ticklish point in law 
whether the housemaid's evidence could be ac- 
cepted. You see, she was quoting the words of a 
man since dead, spoken to another man also dead. 
There is no doubt that had there been very strong 



2IO THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

evidence on the other side against Percival Brooks, 
Mary Sullivan's would have counted for nothing; 
but, as I told you before, the judge's belief In the 
prisoner's guilt was already very seriously shaken, 
and now the final blow aimed at it by Mr. Oran- 
more shattered his last lingering doubt. 

*'Dr. Mulligan, namely, had been placed by 
Mr. Oranmore into the Mritness-box. He was a 
medical man of unimpeachable authority, in fact, 
absolutely at the head of his profession in Dublin. 
What he said practically corroborated Mary Sulli- 
van's testimony. He had gone in to see Mr. 
Brooks at half-past four, and understood from him 
that his lawyer had just left him. 

" Mr. Brooks certainly, though terribly weak, 
was calm and more composed. He was dying 
from a sudden heart attack, and Dr. Mulligan 
foresaw the almost immediate end. But he was 
still conscious and managed to murmur feebly : * I 
feel much easier in my mind now, doctor — I have 
made my will — ^Wethered has been — ^he's got It in 

this pocket — it is safe there — safe from that * 

But the words died on his lips, and after that he 
spoke but little. He saw his two sons before he 
died, but hardly knew them or even looked at 
them." 

" You see," concluded the man In the comer, 
^'you see that the prosecution was bound to col- 
lapse. Oranmore did not give it a leg to stand 
on. The will was forged, it is true, forged in 



A MEMORABLE DAY an 

the favour of Percival Brooks and of no one else, 
forged for him and for his benefit. Whether he 
knew and connived at the forgery was never 
proved or, as far as I know, even hinted, but it 
jwas impossible to go against all the evidence^ 
'which pointed that, as far as the act itself was 
concerned, he at least was innocent. You see. Dr. 
Mulligan's evidence was not to be shaken. Mary 
Sullivan's was equally strong. 

" There were two witnesses swearing positively 
that old Brooks* will was in Mr. Wethered's keep- 
ing when that gentleman left the Fitzwilliam man- 
sion at a quarter past four. At five o'clock in the 
afternoon the lawyer was found dead in Phoenix 
Park. Between a quarter past four and eight 
o'clock in the evening Percival Brooks never left 
the house — ^that was subsequently proved by Oran- 
more up to the hilt and beyond a doubt. Since 
the will found under old Brooks' pillow was a 
forged will, where then was the will he did make, 
and which Wethered carried away with him in 
his pocket?" 

*^ Stolen, of course," said Polly, " by those who 
murdered and robbed him; it may have been 
of no value to them, but they naturally would 
destroy it, lest it might prover a clue against 
them." 

"Then you think it was mere coincidence?" he 
asked excitedly. 

"What?" 



212 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

^' That Wethered was murdered and robbed at 
the very moment that he carried the will in his 
pocket, whilst another was being forged in its 
place?" 

" It certainly would be very curious, if it were 
a coincidence," she said musingly. 

" Very," he repeated with biting sarcasm, whilst 
nervously his bony fingers played with the inevit- 
able bit of string, "Very curious indeed. Just 
think of the whole thing. There was the old man 
with all his wealth, and two sons, one to whom 
he is devoted, and the other with whom he does 
nothing but quarrel. One day there is another 
of these quarrels, but more violent, more terrible 
than any that have previously occurred, with the 
result that the father, heartbroken by it all, has an 
attack of apoplexy and practically dies of a broken 
heart. After that he alters his will, and sub- 
sequently a will is proved which turns out to be a 
forgery. 

"Now everybody — ^police, press, and public 
alike — ^at once jump to the conclusion that, as 
Percival Brooks benefits by that forged will, Per- 
cival Brooks must be the forger." 

" Seek for him whom the crime benefits, is your 
own axiom," argued the girl. 

" I beg your pardon ? " 

"Percival Brooks benefited to the tunc of 
i£2,ooo,ooo." 

*'I beg your pardon. He did nothing of the 



A MEMORABLE DAY 213 

sort. He was left with less than half the share 
that his younger brother inherited." 

"Now, yes; but that was a former will 
and " 

" And that forged will was so clumsily executed, 
the signature so carelessly imitated, that the 
forgery was bound to come to light. Did that 
never strike you?" 

" Yes, but " 

" There is no but," he interrupted. " It was 
all as clear as daylight to me from the very first. 
The quarrel with the old man, which broke his 
heart, was not with his eldest son, with whom 
he was used to quarrelling, but with the second son 
whom he idolised, in whom he believed. Don't 
you remember how John O'Neill heard the words 
* liar ' and * deceit ' ? Percival Brooks had never 
deceived his father. His sins were all on the sur- 
face. Murray had led a quiet life, had pandered 
to his father, and fawned upon him, until, like 
most hypocrites, he at last got found out. Who 
knows what ugly gambling debt or debt of honour, 
suddenly revealed to old Brooks, was the cause of 
that last and deadly quarrel ? 

"You remember that it was Percival who re- 
mained beside his father and carried him up to 
his room. Where was Murray throughout that 
long and painful day, when his father lay dying 
—he, the idolised son, the apple of the old man's 
eye? You never hear his name mentioned as be- 



214 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

ing present there all that day. But he knew that 
he had offended his father mortally, and that his 
father meant to cut him ofiF with a shilling. He 
knew that Mr. Wethered had been sent for, that 
IWethered left the house soon after four o'clock. 

" And here the cleverness of the man comes in. 
Having lain in wait for Wethered and knocked 
him on the back of the head with a stick, he could 
not very well make that will disappear altogether. 
There remained the faint chance of some other 
witnesses knowing that Mr. Brooks had made a 
fresh will, Mr. Wethered's partner, his derk, or 
one of the confidential servants in the house. 
Therefore a will must be discovered after the old 
man's death. 

"Now, Murray Brooks was not an expert 
forger, it takes years of training to become that. 
A forged will executed by himself would be sure 
to be found out — yes, that's it, sure to be found 
out. The forgery will be palpable — ^let it be 
palpable, and then it will be found out, branded 
as such, and the original will of 1891, so favour- 
able to the young blackguard's interests, would be 
held as valid. Was it devilry or merely additional 
caution which prompted Murray to pen that 
forged will so glaringly in Percival's favour? It 
is. impossible to say. 

"Anyhow, it was the cleverest touch in that 
marvellously devised crime. To plan that evil 
deed was great, to execute it was easy enough. 



A MEMORABLE DAY 215 

He had several hours' leisure in which to do it. 
Then at night it was simplicity itself to slip the 
document under the dead man's pillow. Sacrilege 
causes no shudder to such natures as Murray 
Brooks. The rest of the drama you know al- 
ready " 

"But Percival Brooks?" 

" The jury returned a verdict of * Not guilty.' 
There was no evidence against him." 

"But the money? Surely the scoundrel does 
not have the enjoyment of it still? " 

"No; he enjoyed it for a time, but he died 
about three months ago, and forgot to take the 
precaution of making a will, so his brother Per^ 
cival has got the business after all. If yov ever 
{o to Dublin, I should order some of Brooks' 
bacon if I were you. It is very good." 



CHAPTER XXIV 

AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE 

" Do you care for the seaside? *' asked the man in 
the corner when he had finished his lunch. " I 
don't mean the seaside at Ostend or Trouville, but 
honest English seaside with nigger minstrels, 
three-shilling excursionists, and dirty, expensive 
furnished apartments, where they charge you a 
shilling for lighting the hall gas on Sundays and 
sixpence on other evenings. Do you care for 
that?" 

" I prefer the country." 

"Ah! perhaps it is preferable. Personally I 
only liked one of our English seaside resorts once, 
and that was for a week, when Edward Skinner 
was up before the magistrate, charged with what 
was known as the ' Brighton Outrage.' I don't 
know if you remember the memorable day in 
Brighton, memorable for that elegant town, which 
deals more in. amusements than mysteries, when 
Mr. Francis Morton, one of its most noted resi- 
dents, disappeared. Yes! disappeared as com- 
pletely as any vanishing lady in a music-hall. He 
was wealthy, had a fine house, servants, a wife and 
children, and he disappeared. There was no get- 
ting away from that. 

sz6 



AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE 217 

"Mr. Francis Morton lived with his wife in 
one of the large houses in Sussex Square at the 
Kemp Town end of Brighton. Mrs. Morton was 
well known for her Americanisms, her swagger 
dinner parties, and beautiful^ Paris gowns. She 
was the daughter of one of the many American 
millionaires (I think her father was a Chicago 
pork-butcher), who conveniently provide wealthy 
wives for English gentlemen ; and she had married 
Mr. Francis Morton a few years ago and brought 
him her quarter of a million, for no other reason 
but that she fell in love with him. He was 
neither good-looking nor distinguished, in fact, he 
was one of those men who seem to have Cfty 
stamped all over their person. 

" He was a gentleman of very regular habits, 
going up to London every morning on business 
and returning every afternoon by the * husband's 
train.' So regular was he in these habits that all 
the servants at the Sussex Square house were be- 
trayed into actual gossip over the fact that on 
Wednesday, March 17th, the master was not 
home for dinner. Hales, the butler, remarked 
that the mistress seemed a bit anxious and didn't 
cat much food. The evening wore on and Mr. 
Morton did not appear. At nine o'clock the 
young footman was dispatched to the station to 
make inquiries whether his master had been seen 
there in the afternoon, or whether — ^which Heaven 
forbid — there had been an accident on the line. 



2i8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

The young man interviewed two or three porters, 
the bookstall boy, and ticket clerk; all were agreed 
that Mr. Morton did not go up to London during 
the day ; no one had seen him within the precincts 
of the station. There certainly had been no ac- 
cident reported either on the up or down line. 

^'But the morning of the i8th came, with its 
usual postman's knock, but neither Mr. Morton 
nor any sign or news from him. Mrs. Morton, 
who evidently had spent a sleepless night, for she 
looked sadly changed and haggard, sent a wire 
to the hall porter at the large building in Cannon 
Street, where her husband had his office. An 
hour later she had the reply: 'Not seen Mr. 
Morton all day yesterday, not here to-day.' By 
the afternoon everyone in Brighton knew that a 
fellow-resident had mysteriously disappeared 
from or in the city. 

'^A couple of days, then another, elapsed, and 
still no sign of Mr. Morton. The police were do- 
ing their best. The gentleman was so well known 
in Brighton — as he had been a resident two years 
— ^that it was not difficult to firmly establish the 
one fact that he had not left the city, sfnce no one 
saw him in the station on the morning of the 17th, 
nor at any time since then. Mild excitement pre- 
vailed throughout the town. At first the news- 
papers took the matter somewhat jocosely. 
* Where is Mr. Morton ? ' was the usual placard 
on the evening's contents biUsi but after three days 



AN UNPARALLELED OUTRAGE 21^ 

had gone by and the worthy Brighton resident 
was still missing, while Mrs. Morton was seen ta 
look more haggard and careworn every day, mild 
excitement gave place to anxiety. 

" There were vague hints now as to foul play. 
The news had leaked out that the missing gentle^ 
man was carrying a large sum of money on the 
day of his disappearance. There were also vague 
rumours of a scandal not unconnected with Mrs. 
Morton herself and her own past history, which 
In her anxiety for her husband she had been forced 
to reveal to the detective-Inspector In charge of 
the case. 

'^Then on Saturday the news which the late 
evening papers contained was this : 

" * Acting on certain Information received, the 
police to-day forced an entrance Into one of the 
rooms of Russell House, a high-class furnished 
apartment on the King's Parade, and there they 
discovered our missing distinguished townsman, 
Mr. Francis Morton, who had been robbed and 
subsequendy locked up in that room since Wednes- 
day, the 17th. When discovered he was In the 
last stagesr of Inanition ; he was tied Into an arm- 
chair with ropes, a thick wool shawl had been 
wound round his mouth, and It Is a positive marvel 
that, left thus without food and with very little 
air, the unfortunate gentleman survived the hor- 
rors of these four days of incarceration. 

He has been conveyed to hl& residence la 



(( i 



220 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Sussex Square, and we are pleased to say that 
Doctor Mellish, who is in attendance, has de- 
clared his patient to be out of serious danger, and 
that with care and rest he will be soon quite him- 
self again. 

^^ ' At the same time our readers will learn with 
unmixed satisfaction that the police of our city, 
with their usual acuteness and activity, have al- 
ready discovered the identity and whereabouts of 
the cowardly ruffian who committed this un« 
paralleled outrage.* " 



CHAPTER XXV 



THE PRISONER 



•* I REALLY don't know," continued the man in the 
comer blandly, " what it was that interested me in 
the case from the very first. Certainly it had 
nothing very out of the way or mysterious about 
it, but I journeyed down to Brighton nevertheless, 
as I felt that something deeper and more subtle 
lay behind that extraordinary assault, following a 
robbery, no doubt. 

" I must tell you that the police had allowed it 
to be freely circulated abroad that they held a 
clue. It had been easy enough to ascertain who 
the lodger was who had rented the furnished 
room in Russell House. His name was supposed 
to be Edward Skinner, and he had taken the room 
about a fortnight ago, but had gone away osten- 
sibly for two or three days on the very day of Mr. 
Morton's mysterious disappearance. It was on 
the 20th that Mr. Morton was found, and thirty- 
six hours later the public were gratified to hear 
that Mr. Edward Skinner had been traced to Lon- 
don and arrested on the charge of assault upon the 
person of Mr. Francis Morton and of robbing 
him of the sum of £10,000. 

22Z 



222 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

'^Then a further sensation was added to the al- 
ready bewildering case by the startling announce- 
ment that Mr. Francis Morton refused to prose- 
cute. 

^' Of course, the Treasury took up the case and 
subpcenaed Mr. Morton as a witness, so that gen- 
tleman — if he wished to hush the matter up, or 
had been in any way terrorised into a promise o£ 
doing so— "gained nothing by his refusal, except an 
additional amount of curiosity in the public mind 
and further sensation around the m3rstcrious case. 

'* It was all this, you see, which had interested 
me and brought me down to Brighton on March 
23rd to seethe prisoner, Edward Skinner, arraigned 
before the beak. I must say that he was a very 
ordinary-looking individual. Fair, of ruddy com- 
plexion, with snub nose and the beginning of a 
bald place on the top of his head, he, too, looked 
the embodiment of a prosperous, stodgy ^ City 
gent.' 

** I took a quick survey of the witnesses present, 
and guessed that the handsome, stylish woman 
sitting next to Mr. Reginald Pepys, the noted 
lawyer for the Crown, was Mrs. Morton. 

" There was a large crowd in court, and I 
heard whispered comments among the feminine 
portion thereof as to the beauty of Mrs. Morton's 
gown, the value of her large picture hat, and the 
magnificence of her diamond rings. 

" The police gave all the evidence required with 



THE PRISONER 223 

regard to the finding of Mr. Morton in the room 
at Russell House and also to the arrest of Skinner 
at the Langham Hotel in London. It appears 
that the prisoner seemed completely taken aback 
at the charge preferred against him, and declared 
that though he knew Mr. Francis Morton slightly 
in business he knew nothing as to his private 
life. 

" * Prisoner stated,' continued Inspector Buckle, 
* that he was not even aware Mr. Morton lived in 
Brighton, but I have evidence here, which I will 
place before your Honour, to prove that the 
prisoner was seen in the company of Mr. Morton 
at 9.30 o'clock on the morning of the assault* 

" Cross-examined by Mr. Matthew Quiller, the 
detective-inspector admitted that prisoner merely 
said that he did not know that Mr. Morton was 
a resident of Brighton — ^he never denied having 
met him there. 

** The witness, or rather witnesses, referred to 
by the police were two Brighton tradesmen who 
knew Mr. Morton by sight and had seen him on 
the morning of the 1 7th walking with the accused. 

"In this instance Mr. Quiller had no question 
to ask of the witnesses, and it was generally un- 
derstood that the prisoner did not wish to con- 
tradict their statement. 

** Constable Hartrick told the story of the find- 
ing of the unfortunate Mr. Morton after his four 
days' incarceration. The constable had been sent 



224 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

round by the chief inspector, after certain informa- 
tion given by Mrs. Chapman, the landlady of Rus- 
sel House. He had found the door locked and 
forced it open. Mr. Morton was in an arm-chair, 
with several yards of rope wound loosely round 
him; he was almost unconscious, and there was a 
thick wool shawl tied round his mouth which must 
have deadened any cry or groan the poor gentle- 
man might have uttered. But, as a matter of 
fact, the constable was under the impression that 
Mr. Morton had been either drugged or stunned 
in some way at first, which had left him weak and 
faint and prevented him from making himself 
heard or extricating himself from his bonds, 
which were very clumsily, evidently very hastily, 
wound round his body. 

"The medical officer who was called in, and 
also Dr. Mellish who attended Mr. Morton, both 
said that he seemed dazed by some stupefying 
drug, and also, of course, terribly weak and faint 
with the want of food. 

" The first witness of real importance was Mrs. 
Chapman, the proprietress of Russell House, 
whose original Information to the police led to 
the discovery of Mr. Morton. In answer to Mr. 
Pepys, she said that on March ist the accused 
called at her house and gave his name as Mr. 
Edward Skinner. 

" ' He required, he said, a furnished room at a 
moderate rental for a permanency, with full at- 



^ 



tND FORCED IT OP EH " 



^- 



THE PRISONER 225 

tendance when he was in, but he added that he 
would often be away for two or three days, or 
even longer, at a time. 

" ' He told me that he was a traveller for a 
tea-house,' continued Mrs. Chapman, ' and I 
showed him the front room on the third floor, as 
he did not want to pay more than twelve shillings 
a week. I asked him for a reference, but he put 
three sovereigns in my hand, and said with a laugh 
that he supposed paying for his room a month in 
advance was sufficient reference; if I didn't like 
him after that, I could give him a week's notice to 
quit.' 

"*You did not think of asking him the name 
of the firm for which he travelled ? ' asked Mr. 
Pepys. 

" ' No, I was quite satisfied as he paid me for 
the room. The next day he sent in his luggage 
and took possession of the room. He went out 
most mornings on business, but was always in 
Brighton for Saturday and Sunday. On the 1 6th 
he told me that he was going to Liverpool for a 
couple of days; he slept in the house that night, 
and went off early on the 17th, taking his port- 
manteau with him.' 

" * At what time did he leave ? ' asked Mr. 
Pepys. 

" * I couldn't say exactly,' replied Mrs. Chap- 
man with some hesitation. *You see this is the 
off season here. None of my rooms are let, ex- 



226 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

ccpt the one to Mr. Skinner, and I only have one 
^servant. I keep four during the sununer, autumn, 
and winter season,' she added with conscious 
pride, fearing that her former statement might 
prejudice the reputation of Russell House. ^I 
thought I had heard Mr. Skinner go out about 
nine o'clock, but about an hour later the girl and 
I were in the basement, and we heard the front 
door open and shut with a bang, and then a step 
in the hall. 

" * " That's Mr. Skinner,'* said Mary. " So it 
is," I said, ^^ why, I thought he had gone an hour 
ago." " He did go out then," said Mary, " for 
he left his bedroom door open and I went in to 
do his bed and tidy his room." '^ Just go and see 
if that's him, Mary," I said, and Mary ran up to 
the hall and up the stairs, and came back to tell 
me that that was Mr. Skinner all right enough; 
he had gone straight up to hia room. Mary 
didn't see him, but he had another gentleman with 
him, as she could hear them talking in Mr. Skin- 
ner's room.' 

" ' Then you can't tell us at what time the 
prisoner left the house finally ? ' 

" * No, that I can't. I went out shopping soon 
after that. When I came in it was twelve o'clock. 
I went up to the third floor and found that Mr. 
Skinner had locked his door and taken the key 
with him. As I knew Mary had already done the 
room I did not trouble more about it, though I 



THE PRISONER 227 

did think it strange for a gentleman to lods, up his 
room and not leave the key with me.' 

"*And, of course, you heard no noise of any 
kind in the room then ? * 

" * No. Not that day or the next, but on the 
third day Mary and I both thought we heard a 
funny sound. I said that Mr. Skinner had left 
his window open, and it was the blind flapping 
against the window-pane ; but when we heard that 
funny noise again I put my ear to the keyhole and 
I thought I could hear a groan. I was very 
frightened, and sent Mary for the police.* 

^^ Mrs. Chapman had nothing more of interest 
to say. The prisoner certainly was her lodger. 
She had last seen him on the evening of the i6th 
going up to his room with his candle. Mary the 
servant had much the same story to relate as her 
mistress. 

" * I think it was 'im, right enough,* said Mary 
guardedly. * I didn't see 'im, but I went up to 
'is landing and stopped a moment outside 'is door. 
I could 'ear loud voices in the room — ^gendemen 
talking.' 

" * I suppose you would not do such a thing as 
to listen, Mary? ' queried Mr. Pepys with a smile. 

" * No, sir,' said Mary with a bland smile, ' I 
didn't catch what the gentlemen said, but one of 
them spoke so loud I thought they must be quarrel- 
ling; 

" * Mr. Skinner was the only person in posses- 



228 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

sioh of a latchkey, I presume. No one else could 
have come in without ringing at the door ? ' 

" ' Oh, no, sir; 

" That was all. So far, you see, the case was 
progressing splendidly for the Crown against the 
prisoner. The contention, of course, was that 
Skinner had met Mr. Morton, brought him home 
with him, assaulted, drugged, then gagged and 
bound him, and finally robbed him of whatever 
money he had in his possession, which, according 
to certain affidavits which presently would be 
placed before the magistrate, amounted to £io,« 
coo in notes. 

^^ But in all this there still remained the great 
element of mystery for which the public and die 
magistrate would demand an explanation : namely, 
what were the relationships between Mr. Morton 
and Skinner, which had induced the former 
to refuse the prosecution of the man who had not 
only robbed him, but had so nearly succeeded in 
leaving him to die a terrible and lingering death ? 

" Mr. Morton was too ill as yet to appear in 
person. Dr. Mellish had absolutely forbidden his 
patient to undergo the fatigue and excitement of 
giving evidence himself in court that day. But 
his depositions had been taken at his bedside, were 
sworn to by him, and were now placed before the 
magistrate by the prosecuting counsel, and the 
facts they revealed were certainly as remarkable 
as they were brief and enigmatical. 



THE PRISONER 229 

"As they were read by Mr. Pepys, an awed 
and expectant hush seemed to descend over the 
large crowd gathered there, and all necks were 
strained eagerly forward to catch a glimpse of a 
tall, elegant woman, faultlessly dressed and wear- 
ing exquisite jewellery, but whose handsome face 
wore, as the prosecuting counsel read her hus- 
band's deposition, a more and more ashen hue. 

"*This, your Honour, is the statement made 
upon oath by Mr. Francis Morton,' commenced 
Mr. Pepys in that loud, sonorous voice of his 
which sounds so impressive in a crowded and 
hushed court. * " I was obliged, for certain rea- 
sons which I refuse to disclose, to make a payment 
of a large sum of money to a man whom I did 
not know and have never seen. It was in a 
matter of which my wife was cognisant and which 
had entirely to do with her own affairs. I was 
merely the go-between, as I thought it was not fit 
that she should see to this matter herself. The 
individual in question had made certain demands, 
of which she kept me in ignorance as long as she 
could, not wishing to unnecessarily worry me. At 
last she decided to place the whole matter before 
me, and I agreed with her that it would be best to 
satisfy the man's demands. 

" * " I then wrote to that individual whose name 
I do not wish to disclose, addressing the letter, as 
my wife directed me to do, to the Brighton post 
office, saying that I was ready to pay the £10,000 



230 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

to him, at any place or time and in what manner 
he might appoint. I received a reply which bore 
the Brighton postmark, and which desired me to 
be outside Furnival's, the draper's, in West Street, 
at 9.30 on the morning of March 17th, and to 
bring the money (£10,000) in Bank of England 
notes. 

*' ' " On the 1 6th my wife gave me a cheque for 
the amount and I cashed it at her bank — Bird's 
in Fleet Street. At half-past nine the following 
morning I was at the appointed place. An in- 
dividual wearing a grey overcoat, bowler hat, and 
red tie accosted me by name and requested me to 
walk as far as his lodgings in the King's Parade. 
I followed him. Neither of us spoke. He 
stopped at a house which bore the name ' Russell 
House,' and which I shall be able to swear to as 
soon as I am able to go out. He let himself in 
with a latch-key, and asked me to follow him up 
to his room on the third floor. I thought I 
noticed when we were in the room that he locked 
the door; however, I had nothing of any value 
about me «cept the £10,000, which I was ready 
to give him. We had not exchanged the slightest 
word. 

*' ' ^^ I gave him the notes, and he folded them 
and put them in his pocket-book. Then I turned 
towards the door, and, without the slightest warn- 
ing, I felt myself suddenly gripped by the shoulder, 
while a handkerchief was pressed to my nose slnd 



THE PRISONER 231 

mouth. I struggled as best I could, but the hand- 
kerchief was saturated with chloroform, and I 
soon lost consciousness. I hazily remember the 
man saying to me in short, jerky sentences, spoken 
at intervals while I was still weakly struggling : 

" * " * What a fool you must think me, my dear 
sir! Did you really think that I was going to let 
you quietly walk out of here, straight to the police- 
station, eh ? Such dodges have been done before, 
I know, when a man's silence has to be bought for 
money. Find out who he is, see where he lives, 
give him the money, then inform against him. 
No you don't 1 not this time. I am off to the 
Continong with this £10,000, and I can get to 
Newhaven in time for the midday boat> so you'll 
have to keep quiet until I am the other side of 
the Channel, my friend. You won't be much in- 
convenienced; my landlady will hear your groans 
presently and release you, so you'll be all right. 
There, now, drink this — that's better.' He 
forced something bitter down my throat, then I 
remember nothing more. 

" * " When I regained consciousness I was sit- 
ting in an arm-chair with some rope tied round 
me and a wool shawl round my mouth. I hadn't 
the strength to make the slightest effort to disen- 
tangle myself or to utter a scream. I felt terribly 
sick and faint." ' 

" Mr. Reginald Pepys had finished reading, and 
no one in the crowded court had thought of utter- 



232 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

ing a sound; the magistrate's eyes were fixed upon 
the handsome lady in the magnificent gown, who 
was mopping her eyes with a dainty lace handker- 
chief. 

" The extraordinary narrative of the victim of 
so daring an outrage had kept everyone in sus- 
pense; one thing was still expected to make the 
measure of sensation as full as it had ever been 
over any criminal case, and that was Mrs. Mor- 
ton's evidence. She was called by the prosecuting 
counsel, and slowly, gracefully, she entered the 
witness-box. There was no doubt that she had 
felt keenly the tortures which her husband had 
undergone, and also the humiliation of seeing her 
name dragged forcibly into this ugly, blackmailing 
scandal. 

" Closely questioned by Mr. Reginald Pepys, 
she was forced to admit that the man who black- 
mailed her was connected with her early life in a 
way which would have brought terrible disgrace 
upon her and upon her children. The story she 
told, amidst many tears and sobs, and much use 
of her beautiful lace handkerchief and beringed 
hands, was exceedingly pathetic. 

" It appears that when she was barely seventeen 
she was inveigled Injo a secret marriage with one 
of those foreign adventurers who swarm in every 
country, and who styled himself Comte Armand 
de la Tremouille. He seems to have been a black- 
guard of unusually low pattern, for, after he had 



THE PRISONER 233 

extracted from her some £200 of her pin money 
and a few diamond brooches, he left her one fine 
day with a laconic word to say that he was sail- 
ing for Europe by the Argentina, and would not 
be back for some time. She was in love with the 
brute, poor young soul, for when, a week later, 
she read that the Argentina was wrecked, and 
presumably every soul on board had perished, she 
wept very many bitter tears over her early widow- 
hood. 

" Fortunately her father, a very wealthy pork- 
butcher of Chicago, had known nothing of his 
daughter's culpable foolishness. Four years later 
he took her to London, where she met Mr. Francis 
Morton and married him. She led six or seven 
years of very happy married life when one day, 
like a thunderbolt from a clear, blue sky, she re- 
ceived a typewritten letter, signed ' Armand de la 
Trcmouille,' full of protestations of undying love, 
telling a long and pathetic tale of years of suflFer- 
ing in a foreign land, whither he had drifted after 
having been rescued almost miraculously from the 
wreck of the Argentina, and where he never had 
been able to scrape a sufficient amount of money to 
pay for his passage home. At last fate had fa- 
voured him. He had, after many vicissitudes, 
found the whereabouts of his dear wife, and was 
now ready to forgive all that was past and take 
her to his loving arms once again. 

" What followed was the usual course of events 



234 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

when there Is a blackguard and a fool of a woman. 
She was terrorised and did not dare to tell her 
husband for some time ; she corresponded with the 
Comte de la Tremouille, begging him for her sake 
and in memory of the past not to attempt to see 
her. She found him amenable to reason in the 
shape of several hundred pounds which passed 
through the Brighton post office into his hands. 
At last one day, by accident, Mr. Morton came 
across one of the Comte de la Tremouille's inter- 
esting letters. She confessed everythingi throw^ 
ing herself upon her husband's mercy. 

"Now, Mr. Francis Morton was a business 
man, who viewed life practically and soberly. 
He liked his wife, who kept him in luxury, and 
wished to keep her, whereas the Comte de la 
Tremouille seemed willing enough to give her up 
for a consideration. Mrs. Morton, who had the 
sole and absolute control of her fortune, on the 
other hand, was willing enough to pay the price 
and hush up the scandal, which she believed — 
since she was a bit of a fool — ^would land her in 
prison for bigamy. Mr. Francis Morton wrote 
to the Comte de la Tremouille that his wife was 
ready to pay him the sum of £10,000 which he 
demanded in payment for her absolute liberty and 
his own complete disappearance out of her life 
now and for ever. The appointment was made, 
and Mr. Morton left his house at 9 a. m. on 
March 17th with the £10,000 in his pocket. 



THE PRISONER 235 

"The public and the magistrate had hung 
breathlessly upon her words. There was nothing 
but sympathy felt for this handsome woman, who 
throughout ' had been more sinned against than 
sinning, and whose gravest fault seems to have 
been a total lack of intelligence in dealing with her 
own life. But I can assure you of one thing, that 
in no case within my recollection was there ever 
such a sensation in a court as when the magistrate, 
after a few minutes' silence, said gently to Mrs. 
Morton : 

" * And now, Mrs. Morton, will you kindly look 
at the prisoner, and tell me if in him you recognise 
your former husband ? ' 

" And she, without even turning to look at the 
accused, said quietly: 

" ^ Oh, BO I your Honour I of course that man is 
not the GxAte de la Tremouille.' '' 



CHAPTER XXVI 



A SENSATION 



^* I CAN assure you that the situation was quite 
dramatic/* continued the man in the comer, whilst 
his funny, daw-like hands took up a bit of string 
with renewed feverishness. 

" In answer to further questions from the mag- 
istrate, she declared that she had never seen the 
accused ; he might have been the go-between, how- 
ever, that she could hot say* The letters she re- 
ceived were all typewritten, but signed * Armand 
de la Tremouille,* and certainly the signature was 
identical with that on the letters she used to re- 
ceive from him years ago, all of which she had 
kept. 

" * And did it never strike you,' asked the mag- 
istrate with a smile, * that the letters you received 
might be forgeries ? * 

" 'How could they be?' she replied decisively; 
* no one knew of my marriage to the Comte de la 
Tremouille, no one in England certainly. And, 
besides, if someone did know the Comte inti- 
mately enough to forge his handwriting and to 
blackmail me, why should that someone have 
waited all these years? I have been married 
seven years, your Honour.' 

236 



A SENSATION 237 

"That was true enough, and there the matter 
rested as far as she was concerned. But the 
identity of 'Mr. Francis Morton's assailant had to 
be finally established, of course, before the prisoner 
was committed for trial. Dr. Mellish promised 
that Mr. Morton would be allowed to come to 
court for half an hour and identify the accused on 
the following day, and the case was adjourned un- 
til then. The accused was led away between two 
constables, bail being refused, and Brighton had 
perforce to moderate its impatience until the 
Wednesday. 

" On that day the court was crowded to over- 
flowing; actors, playwrights, literary men of all 
sorts had fought for admission to study for' them- 
selves the various phases and faces in connection 
with the case. Mrs. Morton was not present 
when the prisoner, quiet and self-possessed, was 
brought in and placed in the dock. His solicitor 
was with him, and a sensational defence was ex- 
pected. 

" Presently there was a stir in the court, and 
that certain sound, half rustle, half sigh, which 
preludes an expected palpitating event. Mr. 
Morton, pale, thin, wearing yet in his hollow eyes 
the stamp of those five days of suffering, walked 
into court leaning on the arm of his doctor — Mrs. 
Morton was not with him. 

"He was at once accommodated with a chair 
in the witness-box, and the magistrate, after a 






238 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

few words of kindly sympathy, asked him if he 
had anything to add to his written statement. 
On Mr. Morton replying in the negative, the 
magistrate added: 

" * And now, Mr. Morton, will you kindly look 
at the accused in the dock and tell me whether 
you recognise the person who took you to the room 
in Russell House and then assaulted you ? ' 

** Slowly the sick man turned towards the 
prisoner and looked at him; then he shook his 
head and replied quietly: 

'No, sir; that certainly was not the man.' 
You are quite sure ? ' asked the magistrate 
in amazement, while the crowd literally gasped 
with wonder. 

** * I swear it,' asserted Mr. Morton. 

***Can you describe the man who assaulted 
you?" 

*** Certainly. He was dark, of swarthy com- 
plexion, tall, thin, with bushy eyebrows and thick 
black hair and short beard. He spoke English 
with just the faintest suspicion of a foreign accent.' 

" The prisoner, as I told you before, was Eng- 
lish in every feature. English in his ruddy com- 
plexion, and absolutely English in his speech. 

" After that the case for the prosecution began 
to collapse. Everyone had expected a sensational 
defence, and Mr. Matthew Quiller, counsel for 
Skinner, fully justified all these expectations. He 
had no fewer than four witnesses present who 



A SENSATION 239 

swore positively that at 9.45 a. m. on the morning 
of Wednesday, March 17th, the prisoner was in 
the express train leaving Brighton for Victoria. 

*' Not being endowed with the gift of being in 
two places at once, and Mr. Morton having added 
the whole weight of his own evidence in Mr. 
Edward Skinner's favour, that gentleman was 
once more remanded by the magistrate, pending 
further investigation by the police, bail being al- 
lowed this time in two sureties of £50 each." 



CHAPTER XXVII 



TWO BLACKGUARDS 



" Tell me what you think of it/' said the man In 
the corner, seeing that Polly remained silent and 
puzzled. 

" Well," she replied dubiously, " I suppose that 
the so-called Armand de la Tremouille's story was 
true in substance. That he did not perish on the 
Argentina, but drifted home, and blackmailed his 
former wife." 

" Doesn't it strike you that there are at least 
two very strong points against that theory?" he 
asked, making two gigantic knots in his piece of 
string. 

"Two?" 

"Yes. In the first place, if the blackmailer 
was the ' Comte de la Tremouille ' returned to life, 
why should he have been content to take £10,000 
from a lady who was his lawful wife, and who 
could keep him in luxury for the rest of his natural 
life upon her large fortune, which was close upon 
a quarter of a million. The real Comte de la 
Tremouille, remember, had never found it difficult 
to get money out of his wife during their brief 
married life, whatever Mr. Morton's subsequent 

240 



TWO BLACKGUARDS 241 

experience in the same direction might have been* 
And, secondly, why should he have typewritten 
his letters to his wife? " 

" Because " 

"That was a point which, to my mind, the 
police never made the most of. Now, my experi- 
ence in criminal cases has invariably been that 
when a typewritten letter figures in one, that letter 
is a forgery. It is not very difficult to imitate a 
signature, but it is a jolly sight more difficult to 
imitate a handwriting throughout an entire letter.'* 

" Then, do you think " 

" I think, if you will allow me," he interrupted 
excitedly, " that we will go through the points— ^ 
the sensible, tangible points of the case. Firstly: 
Mr. Morton disappears with £10,000 in his 
pocket for four entire days; at the end of that 
time he is discovered loosely tied to an arm-chair, 
and a wool shawl round his mouth. Secondly : A 
man named Skinner is accused of the outrage. 
Mr. Morton, although he himself is able, mind 
you, to furnish the best defence possible for Skin- 
ner, by denying his identity with the man who 
assaulted him, refuses to prosecute. Why? *' 

" He did not wish to drag his wife's name into 
the case." 

" He must have known that the Crown would 
take up the case. Then, again, how is it no one 
saw him in the company c^f the swarthy foreigner 
he described?" 



242 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"Two witnesses did see Mr. Morton in com- 
pany with Skinner," argued Polly. 

" Yes, at 9.20 in West Street; that would give 
Edward Skinner time to catch the 9.45 at the 
station, and to intrust Mn Morton with the latch- 
key of Russell House," remarked my companion 
drily. 

" What nonsense I *' I ejaculated. 

" Nonsense, is it? " he said, tugging wildly at 
his bit of string; "is it nonsense to afirm that if 
a man wants to make sure that his victim shall not 
escape, he does not usually wind rope Moosely' 
round his figure, nor does he throw a wool shawl 
lightly round his mouth. The police were idiotic 
beyond words; they themselves discovered that 
Morton was so * loosely * fastened to his chair that 
very little movement would have disentangled 
him, and yet it never struck them that nothing 
was easier for that particular tjrpe of scoundrel to 
sit down in an arm-chair and wind a few yards 
of rope round himself, then, having wrapped a 
wool shawl round his throat, to slip his two arms 
inside the ropes." 

"But what object would a man in Morton's 
position have for playing such extraordinary 
pranks?" 

"Ah, the motive I There you are I What do 
I always tell you ? Seek the motive ! Now, what 
was Mr. Morton's position? He was the hus- 
band of a lady who owned a quarter of a million 



TWO BLACKGUARDS 243 

of money, not one penny of which he could touch 
without her consent, as it was settled on herself, 
and who, after the terrible way in which she had 
been plundered and then abandoned in her early 
youth, no doubt kept a very tight hold upon the 
purse-strings. Mr. Morton's subsequent life has 
proved that he had certain expensive, not alto- 
gether avowable, tastes. . One day he discovers 
the old love letters of the * Comte Armand de la 
Trcmouille.* 

" Then he lays his plans : He typewrites a let- 
ter, forges the signature of the erstwhile Count, 
and awaits events. The fish does rise to the bait. 
He gets sundry bits of money, and his success 
makes him daring. He looks round him for an 
accomplice— clever, unscrupulous, greedy — ^and 
selects Mr. Edward Skinner, probably some 
former pal of his wild oats days. 

"The plan was very neat, you must confess. 
Mr. l^nner takes the room in Russell House, and 
studies all the manners and customs of his land- 
lady and her servant. He then draws the full at- 
tention of the police upon himself. He meets 
Morton in West Street, then disappears osten- 
sibly after the ' assault' In the meanwhile Mor- 
ton goes to Russell House. He walks upstairs, 
talks loudly in the room, then makes elaborate 
preparations for his comedy." 

** Why ! he nearly died of starvation I " 

** That, I daresay, was not a part of his reckon- 



244 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

ing. He thought, no doubt, that Mrs. Chapman 
or the servant would discover and rescue him 
pretty soon. He meant to appear just a little 
faint, and endured quietly the first twenty-four 
hours of inanition. But the excitement and want 
of food told on him more than he expected. 
After twenty-four hours he turned very giddy and 
sick, and, falling from one fainting fit into an- 
other, was unable to give the alarm. 

" However, he is all right again now, and con- 
cludes his part of a downright blackguard to per- 
fection. Under the plea that his conscience does 
not allow him to live with a lady whose first hus- 
band is still alive, he has taken a bachelor flat in 
London, and only pays afternoon calls on his wife 
in Brighton. But presently he will tire of his 
bachelor life, and will return to his wife. And 
m guarantee that the Comte de la Tremouille will 
never be heard of again." 

And that afternoon the man in the comer left 
Miss Polly Burton alone with a couple of photos 
of two uninteresting, stodgy, quiet-looking men— • 
Morton and Skinner — ^who, if the old scarecrow 
was right in his theories, were a pair of the finest 
blackguards unhung. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

THE regent's park MURDER 

By this rime Miss Polly Burton had become quite 
accustomed to her extraordinary vis^a-vis in the 
corner. 

He was always there, when she arrived, in the 
self-same comer, dressed in one of his remarkable 
check tweed suits; he seldom said good-morning, 
and invariably when she appeared he began to 
fidget with increased nervousness, with some tat- 
tered and knotty piece of string. 

" Were you ever interested in the Regent's Park 
murder? " he asked her one day. 

Polly replied that she had forgotten most of 
the particulars connected with that curious murder, 
but that she fully remembered the stir and flutter 
it had caused in a certain section of London 
Society. 

"The racing and gambling set, particularly, 
you mean," he said. "All the persons implicated 
in the murder, directly or indirectly, were of the 
type commonly called * Society men,' or ' men 
about town,' whilst the Harewood Club in Han- 
over Square, round which centred all the scandal 
in connection with the murder, was one of the 
smartest clubs in London. 

245 



246 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

** Probably the doings of the Harewood Club, 
which was essentially a gambling club, would for 
ever have remained ' officially ' absent from the 
knowledge of the police authorities but for the 
murder in the Regent's Park and the revelations 
which came to light In connection with it. 

"I daresay you know the quiet square which 
lies between Portland Place and the Regent'si 
Park and is called Park Crescent at its south end, 
and subsequently Park Square East and West. 
The Marylebone Road, with all its heavy traffic, 
cuts straight across the large square and its pretty 
gardens, but the latter are connected together by a 
tunnel under the road; and of course you must 
remember that the new tube station in the south 
portion of the Square had not yet been planned. 

" February 6th, 1907, was a very foggy night, 
nevertheless Mr. Aaron Cohen, of 30 Park 
Square West, at two o'clock in the morning, hav- 
ing finally pocketed the heavy winnings which he 
had just swept off the green table of the Hare- 
wood Club, started to walk home alone. An hour 
later most of the inhabitants of Park Square West 
were aroused from their peaceful slumbers by the 
sounds of a violent altercation in the road. A 
man's angry voice was heard shouting violently 
for a minute or two, and was followed imme- 
diately by frantic screams of * Police ' and * Mur- 
der.* Then there was the double sharp report of 
firearms, and nothing more. 



THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER 247 

" The fog was very dense, and, as you no doubt 
have experienced yourself, it is very difficult to 
locate sound in a fog. Nevertheless, not more 
than a minute or two had elapsed before Con- 
stable F 18, the point policeman at the comer of 
Marylebone Road, arrived on the scene, and, hav- 
ing first of all whistled for any of his comrades 
on the beat, began to grope his way about in the 
fog, more confused than effectually assisted by 
contradictory directions from the inhabitants of 
the houses close by, who were nearly falling out 
of the upper windows as they shouted out to the 
constable. 

" * By the railings, policeman.* 

" * Higher up the road.' 

** * No, lower down.* 

'^ ^ It was on this side of the pavement I am 
sure.' 

" • No, the other.' 

" At last it was another policeman, F 22, who, 
turning ipto Park Square West from the north 
side, almost stumbled upon the body of a man 
lying on the pavement with his head against the 
railings of the Square. By this time quite a little 
crowd of people from the different houses in the 
road had come down, curious to know what had 
actually happened. 

"The policeman turned the strong light of 
his bull's-eye lantern on the unfortunate man's 
face. 



248 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" * It looks as if he had been strangled, don't 
it ? ' he murmured to his comrade. 

"And he pointed to the swollen tongue, the 
eyes half out of their sockets, blood-shot and con- 
gested, the purple, almost black, hue of the face. 

"At this point one of the spectators, more 
callous to horrors, peered curiously into the dead 
man's face. He uttered an exclamation of aston- 
ishment. 

" * Why, surely, it's Mr. Cohen from No. 30 ! ' 

"The mention of a name familiar down the 
length of the street had caused two or three other 
men to come forward and to look more closely 
into the horribly distorted mask of the murdered 
man. 

" ' Our next door neighbour, undoubtedly,' as- 
serted Mr. Ellison, a young barrister, residing at 
No. 31. 

" * What in the world was he doing this foggy 
night all alone, and on foot ? ' asked somebody 
else. 

" * He usually came home very late. I fancy 
he belonged to some gambling club in town. I 
daresay he couldn't get a cab to bring him out 
here. Mind you, I don't know much about him. 
We only knew him to nod to.' 

" * Poor beggar ! it looks almost like an old- 
fashioned case of garrotting.' 

" ' Anyway, the blackguardly murderer, who- 
ever he was, wanted to make sure he had killed 



THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER 249 

his man!' added Constable F 18, as he picked 
up an object from the pavement. * Here's the 
revolver, with two cartridges missing. You gen- 
tlemen heard the report just now? ' 

" ' He don't seem to have hit him though. The 
poor bloke was strangled, no doubt.' 

" * And tried to shoot at his assailant obviously,* 
asserted the young barrister with authority. 

" ' If he succeeded in hitting the brute, there 
might be a chance of tracing the way he 
went.' 

" * But not in the fog.* 

" Soon, however, the appearance of the inspec* 
tor, detective, and medical officer, who had quickly 
been informed of the tragedy, put an end to fur- 
ther discussion. 

" The bell at No. 30 was rung, and the servants 
— ^all four of them women — ^were asked to look at 
the body. 

" Amidst tears of horror and screams of fright, 
they all recognised in the murdered man their 
master, Mr. Aaron Cohen. He was therefore 
conveyed to his own room pending the coroner's 
inquest." 

" The police had a pretty difficult task, you will 
admit; there were so very few indications to go 
by, and at first literally no clue. 

"The inquest revealed practically nothing. 
Very little was known in the neighbourhood about 
Mr. Aaron Cohen and his affairs. His female 



250 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

servants did not even know the name or where- 
abouts of the various dubs he frequented. 

" He had an office in Throgmorton Street and 
went to business every day. He dined at home, 
and sometimes had friends to dinner. When he 
was alone he invariably went to the club, where 
he stayed until the small hours of the morning. 

" The night of the murder he had gone out at 
about nine o'clock. That was the last his servants 
had seen of him. With regard to the revolver, 
all four servants swore positively that they had 
never seen it before, and that, unless Mr. Cohen 
had bought it that very day, it did not belong 
to their master. 

" Beyond that, no trace whatever of the mur- 
derer had been found, but on the morning after 
the crime a couple of keys linked together by a 
short metal chain were found dose to a gate at the 
opposite end of the Square, that which imme- 
diately faced Portland Place. These were proved 
to be, firstly, Mr. Cohen's latch-key, and, secondly, 
his gate-key of the Square. 

" It was therefore presumed that the murderer, 
having accomplished his fell design and ransacked 
his victim's pockets, had found the keys and made 
good his escape by slipping into the Square, cut- 
ting under the tunnel, and out again by the further 
gate. He then took the precaution not to carry 
the keys with him any further, but threw them 
away and disappeared in the fog. 



THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER 251 

" The jury returned a verdict of wilful murder 
against some person or persons unknown, and 
the police were put on their mettle to discover 
the unknown and daring murderer. The result 
of their investigations, conducted with marvellous 
skill by Mr. William Fisher, led, about a week 
after the crime, to the sensational arrest of one of 
London's smartest young bucks. 

"The case Mr. Fisher had got up against the 
accused briefly amounted to this: 

" On the night of February 6th, soon after mid- 
night, play began to run very high at the Hare- 
wood Club, in Hanover Square. Mr. Aaron 
Cohen held the bank at roulette against some 
twenty or thirty of his friends, mostly young fel- 
lows with no wits and plenty of money. *The 
Bank' was winning heavily, and it appears that 
this was the third consecutive night on which Mr. 
Aaron Cohen had gone home richer by several 
hundreds than he had been at the start of 
play. 

" Young John Ashley, who is the son of a very 
worthy county gentleman who is M. F. H. some- 
where in the Midlands, was losing heavily, and in 
his case also it appears that it was the third con- 
secutive night that Fortune had turned her face 
against him. 

" Remember," continued the man in the corner,. 
" that when I tell you all these details and facts, 
I am giving you the combined evidence of several 



252 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

witnesses, which it took many days to collect and 
to classify. 

*'It appears that young Mr. Ashley, though 
very popular in society, was generally believed to 
be in what is vulgarly termed * low water ' ; up to 
his eyes in debt, and mortally afraid of his dad, 
whose younger son he was, and who had on one 
occasion threatened to ship him off to Australia 
with a £5 note in his pocket if he made any fur- 
ther extravagant calls upon his paternal indul- 
gence, 

*^ It was also evident to all John Ashley's many 
companions that the worthy M. F. H. held the 
purse strings in a very tight grip. The young 
man, bitten with the desire to cut a smart figure 
in the circles in which he moved, had often re- 
course to the varying fortunes which now and 
again smile upon him across the green tables in 
the Harewood Club. 

^^Be that as it may, the general concensus of 
opinion at the Club was that young Ashley had 
changed his last * pony ' before he sat down to a 
turn of roulette with Aaron Cohen on that partic- 
ular night of February 6th. 

**It appears that all his friends, conspicuous 
among whom was Mr. Walter Hatherell, tried 
their very best to dissuade him from pitting his 
luck against that of Cohen, who had been having 
a most unprecedented run of good fortune. But 
young Ashley, heated with wine, exasperated at 



THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER 253 

his own bad luck, would listen to no one ; he tossed 
one £5 note after another on the board, he bor« 
rowed from those who would lend, then played on 
rparole for a while. Finally, at half-past one in 
the morning, after a run of nineteen on the red, 
the young man found himself without a penny in 
his pockets, and owing a debt — z gambling debt-^ 
a debt of honour of £1500 to Mn Aaron Cohen. 

" Now we must render this much maligned gen- 
tleman that justice which was persistently denied 
to him by press and public alike; it was posi- 
tively asserted by all those present that Mr. 
Cohen himself repeatedly tried to induce young 
Mr. Ashley to give up pla3ring. He himself was 
in a delicate position in the matter, as he was 
the winner, and once or twice the taunt had risen 
to the young man's lips, accusing the holder of the 
bank of the wish to retire on a competence before 
the break in his luck. 

''Mr. Aaron Cohen, smoking the best of 
Havanas, had finally shrugged his shoulders and 
said : ' As you please I * 

''But at half-past one he had had enough of 
the player, who always lost and never paid — 
never could pay, so Mr. Cohen probably believed. 
He therefore at that hour refused to accept' Mr. 
John Ashley's * promissory ' stakes any longer. A 
very few heated words ensued, quickly checked by 
the management, who are ever on the alert to 
avoid the least suspicion of scandal. 



354 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

"In the meanwhile Mr. Hatherell, with great 
good sense, persuaded young Ashley to leave the 
Club and all its temptations and go home ; if pos- 
sible to bed. 

" The friendship of the two young men, which 
was very well known in society, consisted chiefly, 
it appears, in Walter Hatherell being the willing 
companion and helpmeet of John Ashley in his 
mad and extravagant pranks. But to-night the 
latter, apparently tardily sobered by his terrible 
and heavy losses, allowed himself to be led away 
by his friend from the scene of his disasters. It 
was then about twenty minutes to two. 

'* Here the situation becomes interestingt" con- 
tinued the man in the corner in his nervous way. 
" No wonder that the police interrogated at least 
a dozen witnesses before they were quite satisfied 
that every statement was conclusively proved. 

"Walter Hatherell, after about ten minutes' 
absence, that is to say at ten minutes to two, re- 
turned to the club room. In reply to several in- 
quiries, he said that he had parted with his friend 
at the corner of New Bond Street, since he seemed 
anxious to be alone, and that Ashley said he would 
take a turn down Piccadilly before going home — 
he thought a walk would do him good. 

"At two o'clock or thereabouts Mr. Aaron 
Cohen, satisfied with his evening's work, gave up 
his position at the bank and, pocketing his heavy 
winnings, started on his homeward walk, while 



THE REGENT'S PARK MURDER 255 

Mr. Walter Hatherell left the club half an hour 
later. 

" At three o'clock precisely the cries of * Mur- 
der * and the report of firearms were heard in 
Park Square West, and Mr. Aaron Cohen was 
found strangled outside the garden railings." 



CHAPTER XXIX 



THE MOTIVE 



"Now at first sight the murder in the Regent*s 
Park appeared both to police and public as one of 
those silly, clumsy crimes, obviously the work of 
a novice and absolutely purposeless, seeing that it 
could but inevitably lead its perpetrators, without 
any difficulty, to the gallows. 

" You see, a motive had been established. 
* Seek him whom the crime benefits,' say our 
French confreres. But there was something more 
than that. 

** Constable James Funnell, on his beat, turned 
from Portland Place into Park Crescent a few 
minutes after he had heard the clock at Holy 
Trinity Church, Marylebone, strike half-past two. 
The fog at that moment was perhaps not quite 
so dense as it was later on in the morning, and 
the policeman saw two gentlemen in overcoats and 
top-hats leaning arm in arm against the railings 
of the Square, close to the gate. He could not| 
of course, distinguish their faces because, of the 
fog, but he heard one of them saying to the other : 

" * It is but a question of time, Mr. Cohen. I 
know my father will pay the money for me, and 
you will lose nothing by waiting.' 

25« 



THE MOTIVE 257 

"To this the other apparently made no reply, 
and the constable passed on; when he returned to 
the same spot, after having walked over his beat, 
the two gentlemen had gone, but later on it was 
near this very gate that the two keys referred to at 
the inquest had been found. 

"Another interesting fact," added the man in 
the corner, with one of those sarcastic smiles of 
his which I could not quite explain, "was the 
finding of the revolver upon the scene of the 
crime. That revolver, shown to Mr. Ashley's 
valet, was sworn to by him as being the property 
of his master. 

"All these facts made, of course, a very re- 
markable, so far quite unbroken, chain of circum- 
stantial evidence against Mr. John Ashley. No 
wonder, therefore, that the police, thoroughly sat- 
isfied with Mr. Fisher's work and their own, ap- 
plied for a warrant against the young man, and 
arrested him in his rooms in Clarges Street exactly 
a week after the committal of the crime. 

" As a matter of fact, you know, experience has 
invariably taught me that when a murderer seems 
particularly foolish and clumsy, and proofs against 
him seem particularly damning, that is the time 
when the police should be most guarded against 
pitfalls. 

" Now in this case, if John Ashley had indeed 
committed the murder in Regent's Park in the 
manner suggested by the police, he would have 



358 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

been a criminal in more senses than one, for 
idioqr of that kind is to my mind worse than 
many crimes. 

''The prosecution brought its witnesses up in 
triumphal array one after another. There were 
the members of the Harewood Club— who had 
seen the prisoner's excited condition after his 
heavy gambling losses to Mr. Aaron Cohen ; there 
was Mr. Hatherell, who, in spite of his friendship 
for Ashley, was bound to admit that he had parted 
from him at the corner of Bond Street at twenty 
minutes to two, and had not seen him again till 
his return home at five a. m. 

"Then came the evidence of Ardiur Chipps, 
John Ashley's valet. It proved of a very sensa- 
tional character. 

" He deposed that on the night in question his 
master came home at about ten minutes to two. 
Chipps had then not yet gone to bed. Five min- 
utes later Mr. Ashley went out again, telling the 
valet not to sit up for him. Chipps could not 
say at what time either of the young gendemen 
had come home. 

" That short visit home — ^presumably to fetch 
the revolver — ^was thought to be very important, 
and Mr. John Ashley's friends felt that his case 
was practically hopeless. 

" The valet's evidence and that of James Fun- 
nell, the constable, who had overheard the con« 
versation near the park railings, were certainly tho 



THE MOTIVE 259 

two most damning proofs against the accused. I 
assure you I was having a rare old time that day. 
There were two faces in court to watch which was 
the greatest treat I had had for many a day. One 
of these was Mr. John Ashley's. 

" Here's his photo — ^short, dark, dapper, a little 
* racy ' in style, but otherwise he looks a son of a 
well-to-do farmer. He was very quiet and placid 
in court, and addressed a few words now and 
again to his solicitor. He listened gravely, and 
with an occasional shrug of the shoulders, to the 
recital of the crime, such as the police had recon- 
structed it, before an excited and horrified audi- 
ence. 

" Mr. John Ashley, driven to madness and 
frenzy by terrible financial difficulties, had first of 
all gone home in search of a weapon, then way- 
laid Mr. Aaron Cohen somewhere on that gentle- 
man's way home. The young man had begged 
for delay. Mr. Cohen perhaps was obdurate; but 
Ashley followed him with his importunities almost 
to his door. 

" There, seeing his creditor determined at last 
to cut short the painful interview, he had seized 
the unfortunate man at an unguarded moment 
from behind, and strangled him; then, fearing 
that his dastardly work was not fully accom- 
plished, he had shot twice at the already dead 
body, missing it both times from sheer nervous 
excitement. The murderer then must have 



26o THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

emptied his victim's pockets, and, finding the key 
of the garden, thought that it would be a safe 
way of evading capture by cutting across the 
squares, under the tunnel, and so through the more 
distant gate which faced Pordand Place. 

** The loss of the revolver was one of those un- 
foreseen accidents which a retributive Providence 
places in the path of the miscreant, delivering him 
by his own act of folly into the hands of human 
justice. 

"Mr. John Ashley, however, did not appear 
the least bit impressed by the recital of his crime. 
He had not engaged the services of one of the 
most eminent lawyers, expert at extracting con- 
tradictions from witnesses by skilful cross-exam<* 
inations— -oh, dear me, no I he had been contented 
with those of a dull, prosy, very second-rate limb 
of the law, who, as he called his witnesses, was 
completely innocent of any desire to create a sen- 
sation. 

"He rose quietly from his seat, and, amidst 
breathless silence, called the first of three witnesses 
on behalf of his client. He called three — ^but he 
could have produced twelve — gentlemen, members 
of the Ashton Club in Great Portland Street, all 
of whom swore that at three o'clock on the morn- 
ing of February 6th, that is to say, at the very 
moment when the cries of * Murder ' roused the 
inhabitants of Park Square West, and the crime 
was being committed, Mr. John Ashley was sitting 



THE MOTIVE 261 

quietly in the club-rooms of the Ashton playing 
bridge with the three witnesses. He had come in 
a few minutes before three — as the hall porter of 
the Club testified — ^and stayed for about an hour 
and a half. 

" I need not tell you that this undoubted, this 
fully proved alibi, was a positive bomb-shell in the 
stronghold of the prosecution. The most accom- 
plished criminal could not possibly be in two places 
at once, and though the Ashton Club transgresses 
in many ways against the gambling laws of our 
very moral cojintry, yet its members belong to the 
best, most unimpeachable classes of society. Mr. 
Ashley had been seen and spoken to at the very 
moment of the crime by at least a dozen gentle- 
men whose testimony was absolutely above sus- 
picion. 

" Mr. John Ashley's conduct throughout this 
astonishing phase of the inquiry remained per- 
fectly calm and correct. It was no doubt the con- 
sciousness of being able to prove his innocence 
with such absolute conclusion that had steadied his 
nerves throughout the proceedings. 

" His answers to the magistrate were dear and 
simple, even on the ticklish subject of the revolver. 

" * I left the club, sir,' he explained, * fully deter- 
mined to speak with Mr. Cohen alone in order to 
ask him for a delay in the settlement of my debt 
to him. You will understand that I should not 
care to do this in the presence of other gentlemen. 



262 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

I went home for a minute or two — not in order to 
fetch a revolver, as the police assert, for I always 
carry a revolver about with me in foggy 
weather — but in order to see if a very important 
business letter had come for me in my absence. 

** * Then I went out again, and met Mr. Aaron 
Cohen not far from the Harewood Club. I 
walked the greater part of the way with him, and 
our conversation was of the most amicable char- 
acter. We parted at the top of Portland Place, 
near the gate of the Square, where the policeman 
saw us. Mr. Cohen then had the intention of cut- 
ting across the Square, as being a shorter way to 
his own house. I thought the Square looked dark 
and dangerous in the fog, especially as Mr. Cohen 
was carrying a large sum of money. 

** * We had a short discussion on the subject, 
and finally I persuaded him to take my revolver, 
as I was going home only through very frequented 
streets, and moreover carried nothing that was 
worth stealing. After a little demur Mr. Cohen 
accepted the loan of my revolver, and that is how 
it came to be found on the actual scene of the 
crime; finally I parted from Mr. Cohen a very 
few minutes after I had heard the church dock 
striking a quarter before three. I was at the Ox- 
ford Street end of Great Pordand Street at five 
minutes to three, and it takes at least ten minutes 
to walk from where I was to the Ashton Club.' 

"This explanation was all the more credible, 



THE MOTIVE 263 

mind you, because the question of the revolver 
had never been very satisfactorily explained by 
the prosecution. A man who has effectually 
strangled his victim would not discharge two shots 
of his revolver for, apparently, no other purpose 
than that of rousing the attention of the nearest 
Ipasser-by. It was far more likely that it was Mr. 
I Cohen who shot — ^perhaps wildly into the air, 
when suddenly attacked from behind. Mr. Ash- 
ley's explanation therefore was not only plausible, 
it was the only possible one. 

"You will understand, therefore, how it was 
that, after nearly half an hour's examination, the 
magistrate, the police, and the public were alike 
pleased to proclaim that the accused left the comrl 
without a stain upon his character." 



CHAPTER XXX 



FRIE^8 



" Yes/' interrupted Polly eagerly since, for once, 
her acumen had been at least as sharp as his, *^ but 
suspicion of that horrible crime only shifted its 
taint from one friend to another, and, of course, 
I know " 

''But that's just it," he quietly interrupted, 
*'you don't know — Mr. Walter Hatherell, of 
course, you mean. So did everyone else at once. 
The friend, weak and willing, committing a crime 
on behalf of his cowardly, yet more assertive 
friend who had tempted him to evil. It was a 
good theory; and was held pretty generally, I 
fancy, even by the police. 

'' I say ' even ' because they worked really hard 
in order to build up a case against young Hath- 
erell, but the great difficulty was that of time. 
At the hour when the policeman had seen the two 
men outside Park Square together, Walter Hath- 
erell was still sitting in the Harewood Club, which 
he never left until twenty minutes to two. Had 
he wished to waylay and rob Aaron Cohen he 
would have not waited surely till the time when 
presumably the latter would already have reached 
home. 



FRIENDS 265 

" Moreover, twenty minutes was an incredibly 
short time in which to walk from Hanover Square 
to Regent's Park without the chance of cutting 
across the squares to look for a man, whose where- 
abouts you could not determine to within twenty 
yards or so, to have an argument with him, mur- 
der him, and ransack his pockets. And then there 
was the total absence of motive." 

" But " said Polly meditatively, for she re- 
membered now that the Regent's Park murder, as 
it had been popularly called, was one of those 
which had remained as impenetrable a mystery as 
any other crime had ever been in the annals of the 
police. 

The man in the corner cocked his funny bird- 
like head well on one side and looked at me, 
highly amused evidently at my perplexity. 

"You do not see how that murder was com- 
mitted? " he asked with a grin. 

Polly was bound to admit that she did not. 

"If you had happened to have been in Mn 
John Ashley's predicament," he persisted, "you 
do not see how you could conveniently have done 
away with Mr. Aaron Cohen, pocketed his win- 
nings, and then led the police of your country en- 
tirely by the nose, by proving an indisputable 
alibi?" 

" I could not arrange conveniently," she re- 
torted, " to be in two different places half a mile 
apart at one and the same time." 



266 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

** No I I quite admit that you could not do this 
unless you also had a friend '* 

" A friend? But you say " 

" I say that I admired Mr. John Ashley, for his 
was the head which planned the whole thing, but 
he could not have accomplished the fascinating and 
terrible drama without the help of willing and 
able hands.'* 

" Even then " she protested. 

" Point number one," he began excitedly, fidget- 
ing with his inevitable piece of string. "John 
Ashley and his friend Walter Hatherell leave the 
dub together, and together decide on the plan of 
campaign. Hatherell returns to the dub, and 
Ashley goes to fetch the revolver — ^the revolver 
which played such an important part in the drama» 
but not the part assigned to it by the police. Now 
try to follow Ashley closely, as he dogs Aaron 
Cohen's footsteps. Do you believe that he en- 
tered into conversation with him? That he 
walked by his side? That he asked for delay? 
No ! He sneaked behind him and caught him by 
the throat, as the garrotters used to do in the fog. 
Cohen was apoplectic, and Ashley is young and 
powerful. Moreover, he meant to kill " 

" But the two men talked together outside the 
Square gates," protested Polly, " one of whom was 
Cohen, and the other Ashley." 

" Pardon me," he said, jumping up in his seat 
like a monkey on a stick, "there were not two 



FRIENDS 267 

men talking outside the Square gates. According 
to the testimony of James Funnell, the constable, 
two men were leaning arm in arm against the rail- 
ings and one man was talking.'' 

" Then you think that " 

" At the hour when James Funnell heard Holy 
Trinity clock striking half-past two Aaron Cohen 
was already dead. Look how simple the whole 
thing is," he added eagerly, " and how easy after 
that— easy, but oh, dear mel how wonderfully, 
how stupendously clever. As soon as James Fun- 
nel has passed on, John Ashley, having opened the 
gate, lifts the body of Aaron Cohen in his arms 
and carries him across the Square. The Square is 
deserted, of course, but the way is easy enough, 
and we must presume that Ashley had been in it 
before. Anyway, there was no fear of meeting 
anyone. 

'' In the meantime Hatherell has left the Club : 
as fast as his athletic legs can carry him he rushes 
along Oxford Street and Portland Place. It had 
been arranged between the two miscreants that the 
Square gate should be left on the latch. 

" Close on Ashley's heels now, Hatherell too 
cuts across the Square, and reaches the further gate 
in good time to give his confederate a hand in dis- 
posing the body against the railings. Then, with- 
out another instant's delay, Ashley runs back 
across the gardens, straight to the Ashton Club, 
throwing away the keys of the dead man, on the 



268 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

very spot where he had made it a point of being 
seen and heard by a passer-by. 

"Hatherell gives his friend six or seven min- 
utes' start, then he begins the altercation which lasts 
two or three minutes, and finally rouses the neigh- 
bourhood with cries of * Murder * and report of 
pistol in order to establish that the crime was com- 
mitted at the hour when its perpetrator has al- 
ready made out an indisputable alibi." 

"I don't know what you think of it all, of 
course," added the funny creature as he fumbled 
for his coat and his gloves, ^' but I call the plan- 
ning of that murder — on the part of novices mind 
you — one of the cleverest pieces of strategy I have 
ever come across. It is one of those cases when 
there is no possibility whatever now of bringing 
the crime home to its perpetrator or his abettor. 
They have not left a single proof behind them; 
they foresaw everything, and each acted his part 
with a coolness and courage which, applied to a 
great and good cause, would have made fine states- 
men of them both. 

" As it is, I fear, they are just a pair of young 
blackguards, who have escaped human justice, and 
have only deserved the full and ungrudging ad-* 
miration of yours very sincerely." 

He had gone. Polly wanted to call him back, 
but his meagre person was no longer visible 
through the glass door. There were many things 



FRIENDS 269 

she would have wished to ask of him — ^what were 
his proofs, his facts? His were theories, after 
all, and yet, somehow, she felt that he had solved 
once again one of the darkest mysteries of great 
criminal London. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

THE DE GENNEVILLE PEERAGE 

The man in the comer rubbed his chin thought- 
fully, and looked out upon the busy street below. 

*^ I suppose," he said, " there is some truth in 
the saying that Providence watches over bank- 
rupts, kittens, and lawyers." 

^'I didn't know there was such a saying," 
replied Polly, with guarded dignity. 

*^ Isn't there? Perhaps I am misquoting; any- 
way, there should be. Kittens, it seems, live and 
thrive through social and domestic upheavals 
which would annihilate a self-supporting tom-cat, 
and to-day I read in the morning papers the ac- 
coimt of a noble lord's bankruptcy, and in the so- 
ciety ones that of his visit at the house of a Cabinet 
minister, where he is the most honoured guest. 
As for lawyers, when Providence had exhausted 
all other means of securing their welfare, it 
brought forth the peerage cases." 

** I believe, as a matter of fact, that this special 
dispensation of Providence, as you call it, requires 
more technical knowledge than any other legal 
complication that comes before the law courts," 
she said. 

370 



THE DE GENNEVILLE PEERAGE 271 

"And also a great deal more money in the 
client's pocket than any other complication. Now, 
take the Brockelsby peerage case. Have you any 
idea how much money was spent over that soap 
bubble, which only burst after many hundreds, if 
not thousands, of pounds went in lawyers* and 
counsels' fees ? " 

" I suppose a great deal of money was spent on 
both sides," she replied, "until that sudden, aw- 
ful issue " 

"Which settled the dispute effectually,'* he in- 
terrupted with a dry chuckle. "Of course, it is 
very doubtful if any reputable solicitor would have 
taken up the case. Timothy Beddingfield, the 
Birmingham lawyer, is a gentleman who— well — 
has had some misfortunes, shall we say? He is 
still on the rolls, mind you, but I doubt if any case 
would have its chances improved by his conducting 
it. Against that there is just this to be said, that 
some of these old peerages have such peculiar his- 
tories, and own such wonderful archives, that a 
claim Is always worth investigating — ^you never 
know what may be the rights of it. 

" I believe that, at first, everyone laughed over 
the pretensions of the Hon. Robert Ingram de 
Genneville to the joint title and part revenues of 
the old barony of Genneville, but, obviously, he 
might have got his case. It certainly sounded al- 
most like a fairy tale, this claim based upon the 
supposed validity of an ancient document over 400 



272 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

years old. It was then that a mediaeval Lord de 
Gcnneville, more endowed with muscle than com- 
mon sense, became during his turbulent existence 
much embarrassed and hopelessly puzzled through 
the presentation made to him by his lady of twin- 
born sons. 

" His embarrassment chiefly arose from the fact 
that my lady's attendants, while ministering to the 
comforts of the mother, had, in a moment of ab- 
sent-mindedness, so placed the two infants in their 
cot that subsequently no one, not even — ^perhaps 
least of all — ^the mother, could tell which was the 
one who had been the first to make his appearance 
into this troublesome and puzzling world. 

" After many years of cogitation, during which 
the Lord de Gcnneville approached nearer to the 
grave and his sons to man's estate, he gave up 
trying to solve the riddle as to which of the twins 
should succeed to his title and revenues; he ap- 
pealed to his Liege Lord and King — ^Edward, 
fourth of that name — ^and with the latter's august 
sanction he drew up a certain document, wherein 
he enacted that both his sons should, after his 
death, share his titles and goodly revenues, and 
that the first son born in wedlock of either father 
should subsequently be the sole heir. 

^' In this document was also added that if in 
future times should any Lords de Genneville be 
similarly afllicted with twin sons, who had equal 



THE DE GENNEVILLE PEERAGE 273 

rights to be considered the eldest born^ the same 
rule should apply as to the succession. 

** Subsequently a Lord de GenneviUe was 
created Earl of Brockelsby by one of the Stuart 
kings, but for four hundred years after its enact- 
ment the extraordinary deed of succession re- 
mained a mere tradition, the Countesses of Brock- 
elsby having, seemingly, no predilection for twins. 
But in 1878 the mistress of Brockelsby Castle pre- 
sented her lord with twin-born sons. 

"Fortunately, in modern times, science is more 
wide-awake, and attendants more careful. The 
twin brothers did not get mixed up, and one 
was styled Viscount Tirlemont, and was heir 
to the earldom, whilst the other, born two hours 
later, was that fascinating, dashing young Guards- 
man, well known at Hurlingham, Goodwood, 
London, and in his own county — ^the Hon. Robert 
Ingram de Genneville. 

"It certainly was an evil day for this brilliant 
young scion of the ancient race when he lent an 
ear to Timothy Beddingfield. This man, and his 
family before him, had been solicitors to the Earls 
of Brockelsby for many generations, but Timothy, 
owing to certain * irregularities,' had forfeited the 
confidence of his client, the late earl. 

"He was still in practice in Birmingham, how- 
ever, and, of course, knew the ancient family tradi- 
tion anent the twin succession. Whether he was 



274 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

prompted by revenge or merely self-advertisement 
no one knows. 

** Certain it is that he did advise the Hon. Rob- 
ert de Genneville — ^who apparently had more debts 
than he conveniently could pay, and more extrava- 
gant tastes than he could gratify on a younger 
son's portion — to lay a claim on his father's death 
to the joint title and a moiety of the revenues o£ 
the ancient barony of Genneville, that daim being 
based upon the validity of the iifteeath-centuty 
document. 

" You may gather how extensive were the pre- 
tensions of the Hon. Robert from the fact that the 
greater part of Edgbaston is now built upon land 
belonging to the old barony. Anyway, it was the 
last straw in an ocean of debt and difficulties, and 
I have no doubt that Beddingfield had not much 
trouble in persuading the Hon. Robert to com« 
mence litigation at once. 

"The young Earl of Brockelsby's attitude^ 
however, remained one of absolute quietude in his 
nine points of the law. He was in possession both 
of the title and of the document. It was for the 
other side to force him to produce the one or to 
share the other. 

"It was at this stage of the proceedings that 
the Hon. Robert was advised to marry, in order 
to secure, if possible, the first male heir of the 
next generation, since the young Earl himself was 
still a bachelor. A suitable fiancee was found for 



"The SHRIEKS OF THE CHAMBERMAID 

E OF THE waiters" 



r~ 



THE DE GENNEVILLE PEERAGE 275 

him by his friends in the person of Miss Mabel 
Brandon, the daughter of a rich Birmingham 
manufacturer, and the marriage was fixed to take 
place at Birmingham on Thursday, September 
15th, 1907. 

" On the 13 th the Hon. Robert Ingram de 
Genneville arrived at the Castle Hotel in New 
Street for his wedding, and on the 14th, at eight 
o'clock in the morning, he was discovered lying on 
the floor of his bedroom — murdered. 

" The sensation which the awful and unex- 
pected sequel to the De Genneville peerage case 
caused in the minds of the friends of both litigants 
was quite unparalleled. I don't think any crime 
of modern times created quite so much stir in all 
classes of society. Birmingham was wild with 
excitement, and the employes of the Castle Hotel 
had real difficulty in keeping off the eager and in- 
quisitive crowd who thronged daily to the hall, 
vainly hoping to gather details of news relating to 
the terrible tragedy. 

"At present there was but little to tell. The 
shrieks of the chambermaid, who had gone into 
the Hon. Robert's room with his shaving water 
at eight o'clock, had attracted some of the waiters. 
Soon the manager and his secretary came up, and 
immediately sent for the police. 

" It seemed at first sight as if the young man 
had been the victim of a homicidal maniac, so 
brutal had been the way in which he had been 



276 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

assassinated. The head and body were battered 
and bruised by some heavy stick or poker, almost 
past human shape, as if the murderer had wished 
to wreak some awful vengeance upon the body 
of his victim. In fact, it would be impossible to 
recount the gruesome aspect of that room and of 
the murdered man's body such as the police and 
the medical officer took note of that day. 

''It was supposed that the murder had been 
committed the evening before, as the victim was 
dressed in his evening clothes, and all the lights 
in the room had been left fully turned on. Rob- 
bery, also, must have had a large share in the 
miscreant's motives, for the drawers and cup- 
boards, the portmanteau and dressing-bag had 
been ransacked as if in search of valuables. On 
the floor there lay a pocket-book torn in half and 
only containing a few letters addressed to the Hon. 
Robert de Genneville. 

" The Earl of Brockelsby, next-of-kin to the de- 
ceased, was also telegraphed for. He drove over 
from Brockelsby Castle, which is about seven miles 
from Birmingham. He was terribly affected by 
the awfulness of the tragedy, and offered a liberal 
reward to stimulate the activity of the police in 
search of the miscreant. 

" The inquest was fixed for the 17th, three days 
later, and the public was left wondering where the 
solution lay of the terrible and gruesome muf W 
at the Castle Hotel." 



CHAPTER XXXII 

A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN 

"The central figure in the coroner's court that 
day was undoubtedly the Earl of Brockelsby in 
deep black, which contrasted strongly with his 
florid complexion and fair hair. Sir Marmaduke 
IngersoU, his solicitor, was with him, and he had 
already performed the painful duty of identifying 
the deceased as his brother. This had been an 
exceedingly painful duty owing to the terribly 
mutilated state of the body and face; but the 
clothes and various trinkets he wore, including a 
signet ring, had fortunately not tempted the 
brutal assassin, and it was through them chiefly 
that Lord Brockelsby was able to swear to the 
identity of his brother. 

"The various employes at the hotel gave evi- 
dence as to the discovery of the body, and the 
medical officer gave his opinion as to the imme- 
diate cause of death. Deceased had evidently 
been struck at the back of the head with a poker 
or heavy stick, the murderer then venting his 
blind fury upon the body by battering in the face 
and bruising it in a way that certainly suggested 
the work of a maniac. 

277 



278 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

'' Then the Earl of Brockdsby was called, and 
was requested by the coroner to state when he had 
last seen his brother alive. 

** ^ The morning before his death/ replied his 
lordship, ' he came up to Birmingham by an early 
train, and I drove up from Brockelsby to see him. 
I got to the hotel at eleven o'clock and stayed widi 
him for about an hour.' 

^'^And that is the last you saw of the de- 
ceased?' 

^* ' That is the last I saw of him,' replied Lord 
Brockelsby. 

''He seemed to hesitate for a moment or two 
as if in thought whether he should speak or not, 
and then to suddenly make up his mind to speak, 
for he added: 'I stayed in town the whole of 
that day, and only drove back to Brockelsby late 
in the evening. I had some business to transact, 
and put up at the Grand, as I usually do, and 
dined with some friends.' 

** * Would you tell us at what time you returned 
to Brockelsby Castle ? ' 

'''I think it must have been about eleven 
o'clock. It is a seven-mile drive from here.' 

"*I believe,' said the coroner, after a slight 
pause, during which the attention of all the spec* 
tators was riveted upon the handsome figure of the 
young man as he stood in the witness-box, the very 
personification of a high-bred gentleman, ^ I be- 
lieve that I am right in stating that there was an 



CC ( 



A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN 279 

unfortunate legal dispute between your lordship 
and your brother?* 

" * That is so/ 

" The coroner stroked his chin thoughtfully for 
a moment or two, then he added : 

" * In the event of the deceased's claim to the 
joint title and revenues of De Genneville being 
held good in the courts of law, there would be a 
great importance, would there not, attached to his 
marriage, which was to have taken place on the 
115th?' 

In that event, there certainly would be.' 
Is the jury to understand, then, that you and 
the deceased parted on amicable terms after your 
interview with him in the morning? ' 

" The Earl of Brockelsby hesitated again for a 
minute or two, while the crowd and the jury hung 
breathlessly on his lips. 

" * There was no enmity between us,' he replied 
at last. 

" * From which we may gather that there may 
have been — shall I say — a slight disagreement at 
that interview?' 

***My brother had unfortunately been misled 
by the misrepresentations or perhaps the too opti- 
mistic views of his lawyer. He had been dragged 
into litigation on the strength of an old family 
document which he had never seen, which, more- 
over, is antiquated, and, owing to certain wording 
m it, invalid. I thought that it would be kinder 



ate THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

and more considerate if I were to let my brother 
judge of the document for himself. I knew that 
when he had seen it he would be convinced of the 
absolutely futile basis of his claim, and that it 
would be a terrible disappointment to him. That 
is the reason why I wished to see him myself about 
it, rather than to do it through the more formal — 
perhaps more correct — ^medium of our respective 
lawyers. I placed the facts before him with, on 
my part, a perfectly amicable spirit.' 

" The young Earl of Brockelsby had made this 
somewhat lengthy, perfectly voluntary explanation 
of the state of affairs in a calm, quiet voice, with 
much dignity and perfect simplicity, but the coro- 
ner did not seem impressed by it, for he asked very 
drily: 

" * Did you part good friends ? ! 

" * On my side absolutely so.* 

" * But not on his ? ' insisted the coroner. 

*^ * I think he felt naturally annoyed that he had 
been so ill-advised by his solicitors.' 

** * And you made no attempt later on in the day 
to adjust any ill-feeling that may have existed be- 
tween you and him ? ' asked the coroner, marking 
with strange, earnest emphasis every word he ut- 
tered. 

^' ^ If you mean did I go and see my brother 
again that day — no, I did not.' 

***And your lordship can give us no further 
information which might throw some light upon 



A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN 281 

the mystery which surrounds the Hon. Robert de 
Genneville's death ? * still persisted the coroner. 

" * I am sorry to say I cannot,' replied the 
Earl of Brockelsby with firm decision. 

" The coroner still looked puzzled and thought- 
ful. It seemed at first as if he wished to press 
his point further; everyone felt that some deep 
import had lain behind his examination of the wit- 
ness, and all were on tenterhooks as to what the 
next evidence might bring forth. The Earl of 
Brockelsby had waited a minute or two, then, at 
a sign from the coroner, had left the witness-box 
in order to have a talk with his solicitor. 

" At first he paid no attention to the depositions 
of the cashier and hall porter of the Castle Hotel, 
but gradually it seemed to strike him that curious 
statements were being made by these witnesses, 
and a frown of anxious wonder settled between his 
brows, whilst his young face lost some of its florid 
hue. 

"Mr. Tremlett, the cashier at the hotel, had 
been holding the attention of the court. He 
stated that the Hon. Robert Ingram de Genne- 
ville had arrived at the hotel at eight o'clock on 
the morning of the 13th; he had the room which 
he usually occupied when he came to the * Castle,* 
namely. No. 2 1 , and he went up to it immediately 
on his arrival, ordering some breakfast to be 
brought up to him. 

" At eleven o'clock the Earl of Brockelsby called 



282 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

to see his brother and remained with him until 
about twelve. In the afternoon deceased v»'e!it 
out, and returned for his dinner at seven o'clock 
in company with a gentleman whom the cashier 
knew well by sight, Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, 
the lawyer, of Paradise Street. The gentlemen 
had their dinner downstairs, and after that they 
went up to the Hon. Mr. dc Genneville's room 
for co£fee and cigars. 

" * I coyld not say at what time Mr. Bedding- 
field left,' continued the cashier, 'but I rather 
fancy I saw him in the hall at about 9.15 p. m. 
He was wearing an Inverness cape over his dress 
clothes and a Glengarry cap. It was just at the 
hour when the visitors who had come down for 
the night from London were arriving thick and 
fast ; the hall was very full, and there was a large 
party of Americans monopolising most of our 
personnel, so I could not swear positively whether 
I did see Mr. Beddingfield or not then, though 
I am quite sure that it was Mr. Timothy Bedding- 
field who dined and spent the evening with the 
Hon. Mr. de Genneville, as I know him quite well 
by sight. At ten o'clock I am off duty, and the 
night porter remains alone in the hall.' 

"Mr. Tremlett's evidence was corroborated in 
most respects by a waiter and by the hall porter. 
They had both seen the deceased come in at seven 
o'clock in company with a gentleman, and their 
description of the latter coincided with that of the 



A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN 283 

appearance of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, whom, 
however, they did not actually know. 

" At this point of the proceedings the foreman 
of the jury wished to know why Mr. Timothy 
Beddingfield's evidence had not been obtained/ 
and was informed by the detective-inspector in 
charge of the case that that gentleman had seem- 
ingly left Birmingham, but was expected home 
shortly. The coroner suggested an adjournment 
pending Mr. Beddingfield's appearance, but at the 
earnest request of the detective he consented to 
hear the evidence of Peter Tyrrell, the night 
porter at the Castle Hotel, who, if you remember 
the case at all, succeeded in creating the biggest 
sensation of any which had been made through 
this extraordinary and weirdly gruesome case. 

" * It was the first time I had been on duty at 
•* The Castle," ' he said, * for I used to be night 
porter at " Bright's," in Wolverhampton, but just 
after I had come on duty at ten o'clock a gentle- 
man came and asked if he could see the Hon. 
Robert de Genneville. I said that I thought he 
was in, but would send up and see. The gentle- 
man said: "It doesn't matter. Don't trouble; 
I know his room. Twenty-one, isn't it?" And 
up he went before I could say another word.* 

"*Did he give you any name?* asked the 
coroner. 

" ' No, sir.* 

"*Whatwashelike?* 



384 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 



CC < 



A young gentleman, sir, as far as I can re- 
member, in an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap, 
but I could not see his face very well as he stood 
with his back to the light, and the cap shaded his 
eyes, and he only spoke to me for a minute/ 

" * Look all round you,* said the coroner quietly. 
* Is there anyone in this court at all like the gentle- 
man you speak of?' 

" An awed hush fell over the many spectators 
there present as Peter Tyrrell, the night porter 
of the Castle Hotel, turned his head towards the 
body of the court and slowly scanned the many 
faces there present; for a moment he seemed to 
hesitate— -only for a moment though, then, as if 
vaguely conscious of the terrible importance his 
next words might have, he shook his head gravely 
and said : 

" * I wouldn't like to swear.' 

" The coroner tried to press him, but with true 
British stolidity he repeated: ^I wouldn't like 
to say.' 

"*Well, then, what happened?' asked the 
coroner, who had perforce to abandon his point. 

" * The gentleman went upstairs, sir, and about 
a quarter of an hour later he come down again, 
and I let him out. He was in a great hurry then ; 
he threw me a half-crown and said: ^^Good- 
night." ' 

'^ ^ And though you saw him again then, you 
cannot tell us if you would know him again?' 



A HIGH-BRED GENTLEMAN 285 

"Once more the hall porter's eyes wandered 
as if instinctively to a certain face in the court; 
once more he hesitated for many seconds which 
seemed like so many hours, during which a man's 
honour, a man's life, hung perhaps in the balance. 

"Then Peter Tyrrell repeated slowly: *I 
wouldn't swear/ 

"But coroner and jury alike, aye, and every 
spectator in that crowded court, had seen that the 
man's eyes had rested during that one moment o£ 
hesitation upott the face of the Earl of Brock- 
clsby.'* 



44 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 

The man in the corner blinked across at Polly 
with his funny mild blue eyes. 

No wonder you are puzzled," he continued, 

so was everybody in the court that day, every 
one save myself. I alone could see in my mind's 
eye that gruesome murder such as it had been 
committed, with all its details, and, above all, its 
motive, and such as you will see it presendy, when 
I place it all clearly before you. 

*^But before you see daylight in this strange 
case, I must plunge you into further darkness, in 
the same manner as the coroner and jury were 
plunged on the following day, the second day of 
that remarkable inquest. It had to be adjourned, 
since the appearance of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield 
had now become of vital importance. The public 
had come to regard his absence from Birmingham 
at this critical moment as decidedly remarkable, to 
say the least of it, and all those who did not know 
the lawyer by sight wished to see him in his In- 
verness cape and Glengarry cap such as he had 
appeared before the several witnesses on the night 
of the awful murder. 

286 



THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 287 

"When the coroner and jury were seated, the 
first piece of information which the police placed 
before them was the astounding statement that 
Mr. Timothy Beddingfield's whereabouts had not 
been ascertained, though it was confidently ex- 
pected that he had not gone far and could easily 
be traced. There was a witness present who, the 
police thought, might throw some light as to the 
lawyer's probable destination, for obviously he 
had left Birmingham directly after his interview 
with the deceased. 

" This witness was Mrs. Higgins, who was Mr. 
Beddingfield's housekeeper. She stated that her 
master was in the constant habit— especially 
latterly — of going up to London on business. He 
usually left by a late evening train on those occa- 
sions, and mostly was only absent thirty-six hours. 
He kept a portmanteau always ready packed for 
the purpose, for he often left at a few moment's 
notice. Mrs. Higgins added that her master 
stayed at the Great Western Hotel in London, for 
it was there that she was instructed to wire If any- 
thing urgent required his presence back in Bir- 
mingham. 

"*On the night of the 14th,' she continued, 
* at nine o'clock or thereabouts, a messenger came 
to the door with the master's card, and said that 
he was instructed to fetch Mr. Beddingfield's 
portmanteau, and then to meet him at the station 
in time to catch the 9.35 p. m. up train. I gave 



288 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

him the portmanteau, of course, as he had brought 
the card, and I had no Idea there could be any- 
thing wrong ; but since then I have heard nothing 
of my master, and I don't know when he will re- 
turn.* 

^'Questioned by the coroner, she added that 
Mr. Beddlngfield had never stayed away quite so 
long without having his letters forwarded to him. 
There was a large pile waiting for him now; she 
had written to the Great Western Hotel, London, 
asking what she should do about the letters, but 
had received no reply. She did not know the 
messenger by sight who had called for the port- 
manteau. Once or twice before Mr. Beddlngfield 
had sent for his things in that manner when he 
had been dining out. 

" Mr. Beddlngfield certainly wore his Inverness 
cape over his dress clothes when he went out at 
about six o'clock In the afternoon. He also wore 
a Glengarry cap. 

" The messenger had so far not yet been found, 
and from this point— namely, the sending for the 
portmanteau — all traces of Mr. Timothy Bed- 
dlngfield seem to have been lost. Whether he 
went up to London by that 9.35 train or not could 
not be definitely ascertained. The police had 
questioned at least a dozen porters at the rail- 
way, as well as ticket collectors; but no one had 
any special recollection of a gentleman In an In- 
verness cape and Glengarry cap, a costume worn 



THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 289 

by more than one first-class passenger on a cold 
night in September. 

"There was the hitch, you see; it all lay in 
this. Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, the lawyer, had 
undoubtedly made himself scarce. He was last 
seen In company with the deceased, and wearing 
an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap ; two or three 
witnesses saw him leaving the hotel at about 9.15. 
Then the messenger calls at the lawyer's house 
for the portmanteau, after which Mr. Timothy 
Beddingfield seems to vanish into thin air; but — 
and that is a great * but ' — ^thc night porter at the 
* Castle ' seems to have seen someone wearing the 
momentous Inverness and Glengarry half an 
hour or so later on, and going up to deceased's 
room, where he stayed about a quarter of an 
hour. 

"Undoubtedly you will say, as everyone said 
to themselves that day after the night porter and 
Mrs. Higgins had been heard, that there was a 
very ugly and very black finger which pointed un- 
pleasantly at Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, espe- 
cially as that gentleman, for some reason which 
still required an explanation, was not there to 
put matters right for himself. But there was just 
one little thing — a mere trifle, perhaps — ^which 
neither the coroner nor the jury dared to over- 
look, though, strictly speaking, it was not evi- 
dence. 

" You will remember that when the night porter 



290 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

was asked if he couldf among the persons present 
in court, recognise the Hon. Robert de Genne- 
ville's belated visitor, everyone had noticed his 
hesitation, and marked that the man's eyes had 
rested doubtingly upon the face and figure of the 
young Earl of Brockelsby. 

"Now, if that belated visitor had been Mr. 
Timothy Beddingfield — ^tall, lean, dry as dust, 
with a bird-like beak and clean-shaven chin — no 
one could for a moment have mistaken his face — 
even if they only saw it very casually and recol- 
lected it but very dimly — ^with that of young Lord 
Brockelsby, who was florid and rather short — ^the 
only point in common between them was their 
Saxon hair. 

"You see that it was a curious point, don't 
you?" added the man in the comer, who now 
had become so excited that his fingers worked 
like long thin tentacles round and round his bit of 
string. ** It weighed very heavily in favour of 
Timothy Beddingfield. Added to which you 
must also remember that, as far as he was con- 
cerned, the Hon. Robert de Genneville was to him 
the goose with the golden eggs. 

"The *De Genneville peerage case' had 
brought Beddingfield's name in great prominence. 
With the death of the claimant all hopes of pro- 
longing the litigation came to an end. There 
was a total lack of motive as far as Beddingfield 
was concerned." 



THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 291 

**Not so with the Earl of Brockelsby," said 
Polly, "and I've often maintained " 

"What?" he interrupted. "That the Earl of 
Brockelsby changed clothes with Beddingfield in 
order more conveniently to murder his own 
brother? Where and when could the exchange 
of costumes have been effected, considering that 
the Inverness cape and Glengarry cap were in the 
hall of the Casde Hotel at 9.15, and at that hour 
and until ten o'clock Lord Brockelsby was at the 
Grand Hotel finishing dinner with some friends ? 
That was subsequently proved, remember, and 
also that he was back at Brockelsby Casde, which 
IS seven miles from Birmingham, at eleven o'clock 
sharp. Now, the visit of the individual in 
the Glengarry occurred some time after 10 
p. m. 

"Then there was the disappearance of Bed- 
dingfield," said the girl musingly. "That cer- 
tainly points very strongly to him. He was a 
man in good practice, I believe, and fairly well 
known." 

"And has never been heard of from that day 
to this," concluded the old scarecrow with a 
chuckle; "no wonder you are puzzled. The 
police was quite baffled, and still is, for a matter 
of that. And yet see how simple it is I Only 
the police would not look further than these two 
men — Lord Brockelsby with a strong motive and 
the night porter's hesitation against him, and 



292 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Beddingfield without a motive, but with strong 
circumstantial evidence and his own disappear- 
ance as condemnatory signs. 

'^ If only they would look at the case as I did, 
and think a little about the dead as well as about 
the living. If they had remembered that peerage 
case, the Hon. Robert's debts, his last straw which 
proved a futile claim. 

"Only that very day the Earl of Brockekby 
had, by quietly showing the original ancient docu- 
ment to his brother, persuaded him how futile 
were all his hopes. Who knows how many were 
the debts contracted, the promises made, the 
money borrowed and obtained on the strength of 
that claim which was mere romance? Ahead 
nothing but ruin, enmity with his brother, his 
marriage probably broken off, a wasted life, in 
fact. 

"Is it small wonder that, though ill-feeling 
against the Earl of Brockelsby may have been 
deep, there was hatred, bitter, deadly hatred 
against the man who with false promises had led 
him into so hopeless a quagmire? Probably the 
Hon. Robert owed a great deal of money to Bed- 
dingfield, which the latter hoped to recoup at 
usurious interest, with threats of scandal and what 
not. 

" Think of all that," he added, " and then teU 
me if you believe that a stronger motive for the 
murder of such an enemy could well be found." 



THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 293 

"But what you suggest is impossible," said 
Polly, aghast. 

" Allow me," he said, " it is more than possible 
— ^it is very easy and simple. The two men were 
alone together in the Hon. Robert de Genne- 
ville's room after dinner. You, as representing 
the public, and the police say that Beddingfield 
went away and returned half an hour later in 
order to kill his client. I say that it was the 
lawyer who was murdered at nine o'clock that 
evening, and that Robert de Genneville, the 
ruined man, the hopeless bankrupt, was the 
assassin." 

"Then " 

" Yes, of course, now you remember, for I have 
put you on the track. The face and the body 
were so battered and bruised that they were past 
recognition. Both men were of equal height. 
The hair, which alone could not be disfigured 
or obliterated, was in both men similar in col- 
our. 

" Then the murderer proceeds to dress his vic- 
tim in his own clothes. With the utmost care 
he places his own rings on the fingers of the dead 
man, his own watch in the pocket; a gruesome 
task, but an important one, and it is thoroughly 
well done. Then he himself puts on the clothes 
of his victim, with finally the Inverness cape and 
Glengarry, and when the hall is full of visitors 
he slips out unperceived. He sends the messenger 



294 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

for Beddingfield's portmanteau and starts ofiF by 
the night express." 

'^ But then his visit at the Castle Hotel at ten 
o'clock *' she urged. " How>dangerous ! '* 

"Dangerous? Yes! but oh^ how clever. You 
see, he was the Earl of Brocl^elsby's twin brother, 
and twin brothers are always somewhat alike. 
He wished to appear dead, murdered by some- 
one, he cared not whom, ibut what he did care 
about was to throw clouds of dust in the eyes of 
the police, and he succeeded with a vengeance. 
Perhaps — ^who knows ? — ^he wished to assure him- 
self that he had forgotten nothing in the tnise en 
scene, that the body, battered and bruised past 
all semblance of any human shape save for its 
clothes, really would appear to e^ryone as that 
of the Hon. Robert de Gennevilk, while the 
latter disappeared for ever from the\old world 
and started life again in the new. \ 

" Then you must always reckon with xht prac- 
tically invariable rule that a murderer always re- 
visits, if only once, the scene of his crime. 

"Two years have elapsed since the crime; no 
trace of Timothy Beddingfield, the lawyer, has 
ever been found, and I can assure you that it will 
never be, for his plebeian body lies buried in the 
aristocratic family vault of the Earls of Brock- 
elsby.*' 

He was gone before Polly could say another 
word. The faces of Timothy Beddingfield, of the 






/ 



THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 295 

Earl of Brockelsby, of the Hon. Robert de 
Genneville seemed to dance before her eyes and 
to mock her for the hopeless bewilderment in 
which she found herself plunged because of them ; 
then all the faces vanished, or, rather, were 
merged in one long, thin, bird-like one, with bone- 
rinuned spectacles on the top of its beak, and a 
wide, rude grin beneath it, and, still puzzled, still 
doubtful, the young girl too paid for her scanty 
luncheon and went her way. 



/ 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH IN PERCY STREET 

Miss Polly Burton had had many an argument 
with Mr. Richard Frobisher about that old man in 
the comer, who seemed far more interesting and 
deucedly more mysterious than any of the crimes 
over which he philosophised. 

Dick thought, moreover, that Miss Polly spent 
more of her leisure time now in that A. B. C. shop 
than she had done in his own company before, 
and told her so, with that delightful air of sheep- 
ish sulkiness which the male creature invariably 
wears when he feels jealous and won't admit it. 

Polly liked Dick to be jealous, but she liked 
that old scarecrow in the A. B. C. shop very much 
too, and though she made sundry vague promises 
from time to time to Mr. Richard Frobisher, she 
nevertheless drifted back instinctively day after 
day to the tea-shop in Norfolk Street, Strand, and 
stayed there sipping cofiee for as long as the man 
in the comer chose to talk. 

On this particular afternoon she went to the 
A. B. C. shop with a fixed purpose, that of mak- 
ing him give her his views of Mrs. Owen's mys- 
terious death in Percy Street. 

The facts had interested and puzzled her. She 

296 



DEATH IN PERCY STREET 297 

had had coundess arguments with Mr. Richard 
Frobisher as to the three great possible solutions 
of the puzzle — "Accident, Suicide, Murder?" 

" Undoubtedly neither accident nor suicide,*' he 
said drily. 

Polly was not aware that she had spoken. 
What an uncanny habit that creature had of read- 
ing her thoughts I 

" You incline to the idea, then, that Mrs. Owen 
was murdered. Do you know by whom ? '* 

He laughed, and drew forth the piece of string 
he alT^ays fidgeted with when unraveling some 
mystery. 

" You would like to know who murdered that 
old woman?" he asked at last. 

"I would like to hear your views on the sub- 
ject," Polly replied. 

"I have no views," he said drily. "No one 
can know who murdered the woman, since no one 
ever saw the person who did it. No one can give 
the faintest description of the mysterious man 
who alone could have committed that clever deed, 
and the police are playing a game of blind man's 
buff." 

"But you must have formed some theory of 
your own," she persisted. 

It annoyed her that the funny creature was 
obstinate about this point, and she tried to nettle 
his vanity. 

" I suppose that as a matter of fact your orig- 



298 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

inal remark that * there are no such things as 
mysteries* does not apply universally. There is 
a mystery — that of the death in Percy Street, and 
you, like the police, are unable to fathom it." 

He pulled up his eyebrows and looked at her 
for a minute or two. 

" Confess that that murder was one of the 
cleverest bits of work accomplished outside Rus- 
sian diplomacy,'' he said with a nervous laugh. 
*' I must say that were I the judge, called upon to 
pronounce sentence of death on the man who con- 
ceived that murder, I could not bring myself to 
do it. I would politely request the gentleman 
to enter our Foreign Office — ^we have need of such 
men. The whole mise en scene was truly artistic, 
worthy of its milieu — the Rubens Studios in Percy 
Street, Tottenham Court Road. 

" Have you ever noticed them ? They are only 
studios by name, and are merely a set of rooms in 
a corner house, with the windows slightly en- 
larged, and the rents charged accordingly in con- 
sideration of that additional five inches of smoky 
daylight, filtering through dusty windows. On 
the ground floor there is the order office for some 
stained glass works, with a workshop in the rear, 
and on the first floor landing a small room allotted \ 
to the caretaker, with gas, coal, and fifteen shil- 
lings a week, for which princely income she is de- 
puted to keep tidy and clean the general aspect 
of the house. 



DEATH IN PERCY STREET 299 

" Mrs. Owen, who was the caretaker there, was 
a quiet, respectable woman, who eked out her 
scanty wages by sundry — mostly very meagre — 
tips doled out to her by impecunious artists in 
exchange for promiscuous domestic services in and 
about the respective studios. 

" But if Mrs. Owen's earnings were not large 
they were very regular, and she had no fastidious 
tastes. She and her cockatoo lived on her wages ; 
and all the tips added up, and never spent, year 
after year, went to swell a very comfortable little 
account at interest in the Birkbeck Bank. This 
little account had mounted up to a very tidy sum, 
and the thrifty widow— or old maid — ^no one ever 
knew which she was— was generally referred to 
by the young artists of the Rubens Studios as a 
* lady of means.' But this is a digression. 

" No one slept on the premises except Mrs. 
Owen and her cockatoo. The rule was that one 
by one as the tenants left their rooms in the 
evening they took their respective keys to the 
caretaker's room. She would then, in the early 
morning, tidy and dust the studios and the office 
downstairs, lay the fire and carry up coals. 

"The foreman of the glass works was the first 
to arrive in the morning. He had a latch-key, 
and let himself in, after which it was the custom 
of the house that he should leave the street cioor 
open for the benefit of the other tenants and their 
visitors. 



30O THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

" Usually, when he came at about nine o'clock, 
he found Mrs. Owen busy about the house doing 
her work, and he had often a brief chat with her 
about the weather, but on this particular morning 
of February 2nd he neither saw nor heard her. 
However, as the shop had been tidied and the 
fire laid, he surmised that Mrs. Owen had finished 
her work earlier than usual, and thought no more 
about it. One by one the tenants of the studios 
turned up, and the day sped on without anyone's 
attention being drawn noticeably to the fact that 
the caretaker had not appeared upon the scene. 

" It had been a bitterly cold night, and the 
day was even worse ; a cutting north-easterly gale 
was blowing, there had been a great deal of snow 
during the night which lay quite thick on the 
ground, and at five o'clock in the afternoon, when 
the last glimmer of the pale winter daylight had 
disappeared, the confraternity of the brush put 
palette and easel aside and prepared to go home. 
The first to leave was Mr. Charles Pitt; he locked 
up his studio and, as usual, took his key mto the 
caretaker's room. 

" He had just opened the door when an icy 
blast literally struck him in the face; both the 
windows were wide open, and the snow and sleet 
were beating thickly into the room, forming al- 
ready a white carpet upon the floor. 

"The room was in semi-obscurity, and at first 
Mr. Pitt saw nothing, but instinctively realising 



DEATH IN PERCY STREET 301 

that something was wrong, he lit a match, and 
saw before him the spectacle of that awful and 
mysterious tragedy which has ever since puzzled 
both police and public. On the floor, already 
half covered by the drifting snow, lay the body of 
Mrs. Owen, face downwards, in a nightgown, 
with feet and ankles bare, and these and her 
hands were of a deep purple colour; whilst in a 
corner of the room, huddled up with the cold, the 
body of the cockatoo lay stark and stiff." 



CHAPTER XXXV 

SUICIDE OR MURDER? 

"At first there was only talk of a terrible ac- 
ddent, the result of some inexplicable carelessness 
which perhaps the evidence at the inquest would 
help to elucidate. 

'^ Medical assistance came too late ; the unfor- 
tunate woman was indeed dead, frozen to death, 
inside her own room. Further examination 
showed that she had received a severe blow at 
the back of the head, which must have stunned 
her and caused her to fall, helpless, beside the 
open window. Temperature at five degrees be- 
low zero had done the rest. Detective-Inspector 
Howell discovered close to the window a wrought- 
iron gas bracket, the height of which corre- 
sponded exacdy with the bruise at the back of 
Mrs. Owen's head. 

" Hardly however had a couple of days elapsed 
when public curiosity was whetted by a few start- 
ling headlines, such as the halfpenny evening 
papers alone know how to concoct. 

" * The mysterious death in Percy Street.' * Is 
it Suicide or Murder?' * Thrilling detail 
Strange developments.' * Sensational Arrest.' 

302 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 303 

" What had happened was simply this : 

"At the inquest a few certainly very curious 
facts connected with Mrs. Owen's life had come 
to light, and this had led to the apprehension of 
a young man of very respectable parentage on 
a charge of being concerned in the tragic death 
of the unfortunate caretaker. 

"To begin with, it happened that her life, 
which in an ordinary way should have been very 
monotonous and regular, seemed, at any rate lat- 
terly, to have been more than usually chequered 
and excited. Every witness who had known her 
in the past concurred in the statement that since 
October last a great change had come over the 
worthy and honest woman. 

" I happen to have a photo of Mrs. Owen as 
she was before this great change occurred in her 
quiet and uneventful life, and which led, as far 
as the poor soul was concerned, to such disastrous 
results. 

" Here she is to the life," added the funny crea- 
ture, placing the photo before Polly — " as re- 
spectable, as stodgy, as uninteresting as it is well 
possible for a member of your charming sex to be ; 
not a face, you will admit, to lead any youngster 
to temptation or to induce him to commit a 
crime. 

"Nevertheless one day all the tenants of the 
Rubens Studios were surprised and shocked to see 
Mrs. Owen, quiet, respectable Mrs. Owen, sally- 



304 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

ing forth at six o'clock in the afternoon attired 
in an extravagant bonnet and a doak trimmed with 
imitation astrakhan which — slightly open in front 
—displayed a gold locket and chain of astonish- 
ling proportions, 

** Many were the comments, the hints, the bits 
of sarcasm levelled at the worthy woman by the 
frivolous confraternity of the brush. 

" The plot thickened when from that day forth 
a complete change came over the worthy caretaker 
of the Rubens Studios. While she appeared day 
after day before the astonished gaze of the ten- 
ants and the scandalised looks of the neighbours, 
attired in new and extravagant dresses, her work 
was hopelessly neglected, and she was always 
*out' when wanted. 

*' There was, of course, much talk and com- 
ment in various parts of the Rubens Studios on 
the subject of Mrs. Owen's 'dissipations.' The 
tenants began to put two and two together, and 
after a very little while the general concensus of 
opinion became firmly established that the honest 
caretaker's demoralisation coincided week for 
week, almost day for day, with young Greenhill's 
establishment in No. 8 Studio. 

" Everyone had remarked that he stayed much 
later in the evening than anyone else, and yet no 
one presumed that he stayed for purposes of 
work. Suspicions soon arose to certainty when 
Mrs. Owen and Arthur Greenhill were seen by 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 305 

one of the glass workmen dining together at Gam- 
bia's Restaurant in Tottenham Court Road. 

"The workman, who was having a cup of tea 
at the counter, noticed particularly that when the 
bill was paid the money came out of Mrs. Owen's 
purse. The dinner had been sumptuous — ^veal 
cutlets, a cut from the joint, dessert, coffee and 
liqueurs. Finally the pair left the restaurant ap- 
parently very gay, young GreenhiU smoking a 
choice cigar. 

** Irregularities such as these were bound sooner 
or later to come to the ears and eyes of Mr. All- 
man, the landlord of the Rubens Studios; and a 
month after the New Year, without further warn- 
ing, he gave her a week's notice to quit his 
house. 

" ' Mrs. Owen did not seem the least bit upset 
when I gave her notice,' Mr. AUman declared in 
his evidence at the inquest ; * on the contrary, she 
told me that she had ample means, and had only 
worked latterly for the sake of something to do. 
She added that she had plenty of friends who 
would look after her, for she had a nice little 
pile to leave to anyone who would know how " to 
get the right side of her." ' 

" Nevertheless, in spite of this cheerful inter- 
view. Miss Bedford, the tenant of No. 6 Studio, 
had stated that when she took her key to the 
caretaker's room at 6.30 that afternoon she found 
Mrs. Owen in tears. The caretaker refused to be 



306 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

comforted, nor would she speak of her trouble to 
Miss Bedford. 

" Twenty-four hours later she was found dead. 

" The coroner's jury returned an open verdict, 
and Detective-Inspector Jones was charged by the 
police to make some inquiries about young Mr. 
Greenhill, whose intimacy with the unfortunate 
woman had been universally commented upon. 

"The detective, however, pushed his investi- 
gations as far as the Birkbeck Bank. There he 
discovered that after her interview with Mr. All- 
man, Mrs. Owen had withdrawn what money she 
had on deposit, some £800, the result of twenty- 
five years' saving and thrift 

" But the immediate result of Detective-Inspec- 
tor Jones's labours was that Mr. Arthur Green- 
hill, lithographer, was brought before the magis- 
trate at Bow Street on the charge of being con- 
cerned in the death of Mrs. Owen, caretaker of 
the Rubens Studios, Percy Street. 

" Now that magisterial inquiry is* one of the 
few Interesting ones which I had the misfortune 
to miss," continued the man in the comer, with 
a nervous shake of the shoulders. " But you 
know as well as I do how the attitude of the 
young prisoner impressed the magistrate and 
police so unfavorably that, with every new wit- 
ness brought forward, his position became more 
and more unfortunate. 

" Yet he was a good-looking, rather coarsely 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 307 

built young fellow, with one of those awful Cock- 
ney accents which literally make one jump. But 
he looked painfully nervous, stammered at every 
word spoken, and repeatedly gave answers entirely 
at random. 

" His father acted as lawyer for him, a rough- 
looking elderly man, who had the appearance of 
a common country attorney rather than of a Lon- 
don solicitor. 

^^The police had built up a fairly strong case 
against the lithographer. Medical evidence re- 
vealed nothing new: Mrs. Owen had died from 
exposure, the blow at the back of the head not 
being sufficiently serious to cause anything but 
temporary disablement. When the medical offi- 
cer had been called in, death had intervened for 
some time; it was quite impossible to say how 
long, whether one hour or five or twelve. 

" The appearance and state of the room, when 
the unfortunate woman was found by Mr. Charles 
Pitt, were again gone over in minute detail. 
Mrs. Owen's clothes, which she had worn during 
the day, were folded neatly on a chair. The key 
of her cupboard was in the pocket of her dress. 
The door had been slightly ajar, but both the 
windows were wide open ; gne of them, which had 
the sash-line broken, had been fastened up most 
scientifically with a piece of rope. 

" Mrs. Owen had obviously undressed prepara- 
tory to going to bed, and the magistrate verji 



3o8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

naturally soon made the remark how untenable 
the theory of an accident must be. No 
one In their five seases would undress with a 
temperature at below zero, and the windows 
wide open. 

"After these preliminary statements, die cash- 
ier of the Birkbeck was called and he related 
the caretaker's visit at the bank. 

" * It was then about one o'clock/ he stated. 
' Mrs. Owen called and presented a cheque to 
self for £827, the amount of her balance. She 
seemed exceedingly happy and cheerful, and 
talked about needing plenty of cash, as she was 
going abroad to join her nephew, for whom she 
would in future keep house. I warned her about 
being sufficiently careful with so large a sum, and 
parting from it injudiciously, as women of her 
class are very apt to do. She laughingly declared 
that not only was she careful of it in the present, 
but meant to be so for the far-off future, for she 
intended to go that very day to a lawyer's office 
and to make a will.' 

"The cashier's evidence was certainly startling 
in the extreme, since in the widow's room no trace 
of any kind was found of any money; against that, 
two of the notes handed over by the bank to 
Mrs. Owen on that day were cashed by young 
Greenhill on the very morning of her mysterious 
death. One was handed in by him to the West 
End Clothiers Company, in payment for a suit of 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 309 

clothes, and the other he changed at the Post 
Office in Oxford Street. 

"After that all the evidence had of necessity 
to be gone through again on the subject of young 
GreenhilPs intimacy with Mrs. Owen. He lis- 
tened to it all with an air of the most painful 
nervousness; his cheeks were positively green, his 
lips seemed dry and parched, for he repeatedly 
passed his tongue over them, and when Constable 
E 18 deposed that at 2 a. m. on the morning of 
February 2nd he had seen the accused and spoken 
to him at the corner of Percy Street and Tot- 
enham Court Road, young Greenhill all but 
fainted. 

"The contention of the police was that the 
caretaker had been murdered and robbed during 
that night before she went to bed, that young 
Greenhill had done the murder, seeing that he was 
the only person known to have been intimate with 
the woman, and that it was, moreover, proved un- 
questionably that he was in the immediate neigh- 
bourhood of the Rubens Studios at an extraordi- 
narily late hour of the night. 

" His own account of himself, and of that same 
night, could certainly not be called very satisfac- 
tory. Mrs. Owen was a relative of his late 
mother's, he declared. He himself was a lithog- 
rapher by trade, with a good deal of time and 
leisure on his hands. He certainly had employed 
some of that time in taking the old woman to 



310 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

various places of amusement. He had on more 
than one occasion suggested that she should give 
up menial work, and come and live ^th him, but, 
unfortunately, she was a great deal imposed upon 
by her nephew, a man of the name of Owen, who 
exploited the good-natured woman in every pos- 
sible way, and who had on more than one occasion 
made severe attacks upon her savings at the Birk- 
beck Bank* 

"Severely cross-examined by the prosecuting 
counsel about this supposed relative of Mrs. 
Owen, Greenhill admitted that he did not know 
him — ^had, in fact, never seen him. He knew 
that his name was Owen and that was all. His 
chief occupation consisted in sponging on the 
kind-hearted old woman, but he only went to see 
her in the evenings, when he presumably knew 
that she would be alone, and invariably after all 
the tenants of the Rubens Studios had left for the 
day. 

" I don't know whether at this point it strikes 
you at all, as it did both magistrate and counsel, 
that there was a direct contradiction in this state- 
ment and the one made by the cashier of the Birk- 
beck on the subject of his last conversation with 
Mrs. Owen. *I am going abroad to join my 
nephew, for whom I am going to keep house,' was 
what the unfortunate woman had said. 

" Now Greenhill, in spite of his nervousness and 
at times contradictory answers, strictly adhered to 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 311 

his point, that there was a nephew in London, 
who came frequently to see his aunt. 

" Anyway, the sayings of the murdered woman 
could not be taken as evidence in law. Mr. 
Greenhill senior put the objection, adding: * There 
may have been two nephews,' which the magis- 
trate and the prosecution were bound to admit. 

"With regard to the night immediately pre- 
ceding Mrs. Owen's death, Greenhill stated that 
he had been with her to the theatre, had seen 
her home, and had had some supper with her in 
her room. Before he left her, at 2 a. m., she 
had of her own accord made him a present of 
£10, saying: *I am a sort of aunt to you, Ar- 
thur, and if you don't have it. Bill is sure to get 
it.' 

" She had seemed rather worried in the early 
part of the evening, but later on she cheered up. 

" ^ Did she speak at all about this nephew of 
hers or about her money affairs ? ' asked the mag- 
istrate. 

"Again the young man hesitated, but said, 
*No! she did not mention either Owen or her 
money affairs.' 

"If I remember rightly," added the man in 
the corner, " for recollect I was not present, the 
case was here adjourned. But the magistrate 
would not grant bail. Greenhill was removed 
looking more dead than alive — ^though everyone 
remarked that Mr. Greenhill senior looked deter- 



312 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

mined and not the least worried. In the course 
of his examination on behalf of his son, of the 
medical officer and one or two other witnesses, 
he had very ably tried to confuse them on the 
subject of the hour at which Mrs. Owen was last 
known to be alive. 

"He made a very great point of the fact that 
the usual morning*s work was done throughout 
the house when the inmates arrived. Was it con- 
ceivable, he argued, that a woman would do that 
kind of work over night, especially as she was 
going to the theatre, and therefore would wish to 
dress in her smarter clothes? It certainly was a 
very nice point levelled against the prosecution, 
who prompdy retorted: Just as conceivable as 
that a woman in those circumstances of life should, 
having done her work, undress beside an open 
window at nine o'clock in the morning with the 
snow beating into the room. 

" Now it seems that Mr. Greenhill senior could 
produce any amount of witnesses who could help 
to prove a conclusive alibi on behalf of his son, if 
only some time subsequent to that fatal 2 a. m. the 
murdered woman had been seen alive by some 
chance passer-by. 

" However, he was an able man and an earnest 
one, and I fancy the magistrate felt some sym- 
pathy for his strenuous endeavours on his son^s 
behalf. He granted a week's adjournment, which 
seemed to satisfy Mr. Greenhill completely. 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 313 

" In the meanwhile the papers had talked and 
almost exhausted the subject of the mystery in 
Percy Street. There had been, as you no doubt 
know from personal experience, innumerable argu- 
ments on the puzzling alternatives: — 

"Accident? 

"Suicide? 

" Murder ? 

"A week went by, and then the case against 
young Greenhill was resumed. Of course the 
court was crowded. It needed no great penetra- 
tion to remark at once that the prisoner looked 
more hopeftil, and his father quite elated. 

"Again a great deal of minor evidence was 
taken, and then came the turn of the defence. 
Mr. Greenhill called Mrs. Hall, confectioner, of 
Percy Street, opposite the Rubens Studios. She 
deposed that at 8 o'clock in the morning of Feb- 
ruary 3rd, while she was tidying her shop window, 
she saw the caretaker of the Studios opposite, as 
usual, on her knees, her head and body wrapped 
in a shawl, cleaning her front steps. Her hus- 
band also saw Mrs. Owen, and Mrs. Hall re- 
marked to her husband how thankful she was that 
her own shop had tiled steps, which did not need 
scrubbing on so cold a morning. 

" Mr. Hall, confectioner, of the same address, 
corroborated this statement, and Mr. Greenhill, 
with absolute triumph, produced a third witness, 
Mrs. Martin, of Percy Street, who from her win- 



314 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

dow on the second floor had, at 7 :30 a. m., seen 
the caretaker shaking mats outside her front door. 
The description this witness gave of Mrs. Owen's 
get-up, with the shawl round her head, coincided 
point by point with diat given by Mr. and Mrs. 
HaU. 

^^ After that Mr. Greenhill's task became an 
easy one; his son was at home having his break- 
fast at 8 o'clock that morning — not only himself, 
but his servants would testify to that. 

"The weather had been so bitter that the 
whole of that day Arthur had not stirred from 
his own fireside. Mrs. Owen was murdered after 
8 a. m. on that day, since she was seen alive by 
three people at that hour, therefore his son could 
not have murdered Mrs. Owen. The police must 
find the criminal elsewhere, or else bow to the 
opinion originally expressed by the public that 
Mrs. Owen had met with a terrible untoward 
accident, or that perhaps she may have wilfully 
sought her own death in that extraordinary and 
tragic fashion. 

** Before young Greenhill was finally discharged 
one or two witnesses were again examined, chief 
among these being the foreman of the glassworks. 
He had turned up at the Rubens Studios at 9 
o'clock, and been in business all day. He averred 
positively that he did not specially notice any sus- 
picious-looking individual crossing the hall that 
day. * But,' he remarked with a smile, * I don't 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 31S 

« 

sit and watch everyone who goes up and down 
stairs.' I am too busy for that. The street door 
is always left open; anyone can walk in, up^ oil 
down, who knows the way.' 

^^ That there was a mystery in connection Tnth 
Mrs. Owen's death— of that the police have re- 
mained perfectly convinced; whether young 
Greenhill held the key of that mystery or not 
they have never found out to this day. 

** I could enlighten them as to the cause of the 
young lithographer's anxiety at the magisterial 
inquiry, but, I assure you, I do not care to do the 
work of the police for them. Why should I? 
Greenhill will never^ suffer from unjust suspicions. 
He and his father^ alone — ^besides myself — ^know 
in what a terribly tight comer he all but found 
himself. 

** The young man did not reach home till nearly 
-five o'clock that morning. His last train had 
gone ; he had to walk, lost his way, and wandered 
about Hampstead for hours. Think what his 
position would have been if the worthy confec- 
tioners of Percy Street had not seen Mrs. Owen 
'wrapped up in a shawl, on her knees, doing the 
front steps.' 

" Moreover, Mr. Greenhill senior is a solicitor, 
who has a small office in John Street, Bedford 
Row. The afternoon before her death Mrs. 
Owen had been to that office and had there made 
a will by which she left all her savings to young 



3i6 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Ardiur Greenhill, lithographer. Had that will 
been in other than paternal hands, it would have 
been proved, in the natural course of such things, 
and one other link would have been added to the 
diain which nearly dragged Arthur Greenhill to 
die gallows — ^ the link of a very strong motive.' 

^*Can you wonder that the young man turned 
livid, until such time as it was proved beyond a 
doubt that the murdered woman was alive hours 
after he had reached the safe shelter of his home? 

" I saw you smile when I used the word * Mur- 
dered,* " continued the man in the comer, growing 
quite excited now that he was approaching the 
denouement of his story. ^* I know that the pub- 
lic, after the magistrate had discharged Arthur 
Greenhill, was quite satisfied to think that the 
mystery in Percy Street was a case of accident—^ 
or suicide.'* 

" No," replied Polly, " there could be no ques- 
tion of suicide, for two very distinct reasons." 

He looked at her with some degree of astonish- 
ment. She supposed that he was amazed at hec 
venturing to form an opinion of her own. 

'^And may I ask what, in your opinion, these 
reasons are?" he asked very sarcastically. 

" To begin with, the question of money," she 
•aid — *^has any more of it been traced so 
far?" 

" Not another £5 note," he said with a chuckle ; 
■• thejr were all cashed in Paris during the Exhibi-* 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 317 

tion, and you have no conception how easy a thing 
that is to dO| at any of the hotels or smaller agents 
de change/^ 

''That nephew was a devar blackguard,'' she 
conmiented. 

''You believe, then, in the existence of that 
nephew ? " 

" Why should I doubt it ? Someone must have 
existed who was sufficiently familiar with die 
house to go about in it in the middle of the day 
without attracting anyone^s attention.'' 

"In the middle of the day?" he said unth a 
chuckle. 

**Any time after 8.30 in the morning." 

'' So you, too, believe in the ' caretaker, wrapped 
up in a shawl,' cleaning her front steps?" he 
queried. 

" But-—" 

"It never struck you, in spite of the training 
your intercourse with me must have given you, 
that the person who carefully did all the work 
in iht Rubens Studios, laid the fires and carried 
up the coals, merely did it in order to gain time ; 
in order that the bitter frost might really and 
effectually do its work, and Mrs. Owen be not 
missed until she was truly dead." 

" But " suggested Polly again. 

" It never struck you that one of the greatest 
secrets of successful crime is to lead the police 
astray with regard to the time when the crime 



3i8 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

was committed. That was, if you remember, the 
great point in the Regent's Park murder. 

^^ In this case the ^ nephew,' since we admit his 
existence, would— even if he were ever found, 
which is doubtful — ^be able to prove as good an 
alibi as young Greenhill." 

** But I don't understand— '»--«" 

*'How the murder was committed?'' he said 
eagerly. '^ Surely you can see it all for yourself, 
since you admit the ^ nephew ' — a scamp, perhaps 
— ^who sponges on the good-natured woman. He 
terrorises and threatens her, so much so that she 
fancies her money is no longer safe even in the 
Birkbeck Bank. Women of that class are apt at 
times to mistrust the Bank of England. Anyway, 
she withdraws her money. Who knows what she 
meant to do with it in the immediate future ? 

*^In any case, after her death she wishes to 
secure it to a young man whom she likes, and 
who has known how to win her good graces. 
That afternoon the nephew begs, entreats for 
more money; they have a row; the poor woman 
is in tears, and is only temporarily consoled by a 
pleasant visit at the dieatre. 

^^At 2 o'clock in the morning young Greenhill 
parts from her. Two minutes later the nephew 
knocks at the door. He comes with a plausible 
tale of having missed his last train, and asks for 
a * shake down' somewhere in the house. The 
good-matured woman suggests a sofa in one of thQ 



SUICIDE OR MURDER? 3^9 

studios, and then quietly prepares to go to bed. 
The rest is very simple and elementary. The 
nephew sneaks into his aunt's room, finds her 
standing in her nightgown; he demands money 
with threats of violence; terrified, she staggers, 
knocks her head against the gas bracket, and falls 
on the floor stunned, while the nephew seeks for 
her keys and takes possession of the £8oo. "You 
will admit that the subsequent tnise en scene — ^is 
worthy of a genius. 

^^ No struggle, not the usual hideous accessories 
round a crime. Only the open windows, the bit- 
ter north-easterly gale, and the heavily falling 
snow — ^two silent accomplices, as silent as the 
dead. 

"After that the murderer, with perfect pres^ 
ence of mind, busies himself in the house, doing 
the work which will insure that Mrs. Owen shall 
not be missed, at any rate, for some time. He 
dusts and tidies; some few hours later he even 
slips on his aunt's skirt and bodice, wraps his 
head in a shawl, and boldly allows those neigh- 
bours who are astir to see what they believe to 
be Mrs. Owen. Then he goes back to her room, 
resumes his normal appearance, and quietly leaves 
the house.'* 

He may have been seen." 
He undoubtedly was seen by two or three 
people, but no one thought anything of seeing a 
man leave the house at that hour. It was very 






320 THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

cold, the snow was falling thickly, and as he wore 
a muffler round the lower part of his face, those 
who saw him would not undertake to know him 
again." 

'^That man was never seen nor heard of 
again ? " Polly asked. 

i *' He has disappeared off the face of the earth. 
The police are searching for him, and perhaps 
some day they will find him — ^then society will be 
rid of one of the most ingenious men of die age." 



SCHAPTEH XXXVI 



TH£ END 



He had paused, absorbed in meditation. The 
young girl also was silent. Some memory too 
vague as yet to take a definite form was persist- 
ently haunting her— one thought was hammering 
away in her brain, and playing havoc with her 
nerves. That thought was the inexplicable feel- 
ing within her that there was something in con- 
nection with that hideous crime which she ought 
to recollect, something which — if she could only 
remember what it was — ^would give her the clue 
to the tragic mystery, and for once ensure her tri- 
umph over this self-conceited and sarcastic scare- 
crow in the comer. 

He was watching her through his great bone- 
rimmed spectacles, and she could see the knuckles 
of his bony hands, just above the top of the table, 
iGdgeting, fidgeting, fidgeting, till she wondered if 
there existed another set of fingers in the world 
which could undo the knots his lean ones made 
in that tiresome piece of string. 

Then suddenly — a propos of nothing, Polly re* 
membered — ^the whole thing stood before her 
short and clear like a vivid lash of lightning:*^ 



SH THE MAN IN THE CORNER 

Mn. Owen lying dead in the snow beside her 
open window; one of them with a broken sash- 
Ime, tied up most scientifically with a piece of 
string* I remember the talk there had been at 
the time about this improvised sashJine. 

That was after young Greenhill had been dis- 
charged, and the question of suicide had been 
voted an impossibility. 

Polly remembered that in the illustrated papers^ 
photographs appeared of this wonderfully knotted* 
piece of string, so contrived that the weight of 
the frame could but tighten the knots, and thus 
keep the window open. She remembered that 
people deduced many things from that improvised 
sashJine, chief among these deductions being that 
the murderer was a sailor — so wonderful, so com- 
plicated, so numerous were the knots which ser 
cured that window frame. 

But Polly knew better. In my mind's eye she 
saw those fingers, rendered doubly nervous by 
the fearful cerebral excitement, grasping at first 
mechanically, even thoughtlessly, a bit of twine 
with which to secure the window; then the ruling 
habit strongest through all, the g^rl could see it; 
the lean and ingenious fingers fidgeting, fidgeting 
with that piece of string, tying knot after knot, 
more wonderful, more complicated, than any she 
had yet witnessed. 

**If I were you," she said, without daring to 
looK into that comer where he sat, "I would 



THE END 323 

break myself of the habit of perpetually making 
knots in a piece of string." 

He did not reply, and at last Polly ventured to 
look up — ^the corner was empty, and through the 
glass door beyond the desk, where he had just de- 
posited his few coppers, she saw the tails of his 
tweed coat, his extraordinary hat, his meagre, 
shrivelled-up personality, fast disappearing down 
the street. 

Miss Polly Burton (of the Evening Observer) 
was married the other day to Mr. Richard Fro- 
bisher (of the London Mail). She has never set 
eyes on the man in the corner from that day tp 
this. 



nNiS 



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